


An Open Book, With a Torn Out Page

by nachocheese26



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Deaf Character, F/M, Fake Character Death, Mentions of Suicide, Miscarriage, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Tags Contain Spoilers, everlark, hints of Haymitch/Effie, minor spoilers for The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, non-consensual abortion, pregnancy au, referenced human trafficking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:55:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 34
Words: 136,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25101256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nachocheese26/pseuds/nachocheese26
Summary: They should’ve come for us already.I’m scared to even hope that maybe Snow canceled the Games. Or at the very least postponed them.According to the clock, it’s eleven in the morning when the door to my room finally opens.Effie comes in, her eyes filled with tears.I sit up. “What happened?”She looks between me and Peeta. With her voice shaking, she says, “There was an accident…well, no, it wasn’t an accident…District Twelve…it’s all gone.”Catching Fire AU
Relationships: Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Comments: 530
Kudos: 368





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was previously posted years ago on ff.net, under the title 'Our Knotted Web'. And my love for these books and movies has been reignited and so I picked up this story again and completely revamped. I really should be working on my other wips, but I've somehow managed to write 100k for this story and I'm still going, so...here I am, posting another story!
> 
> This starts about halfway through Catching Fire. Some parts will be taken directly from the books and movies, but for the most part, it's all original content. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy and don't forget to leave kudos/comments/thoughts!
> 
> Title inspired by the song Neptune by Sleeping at Last. Which, by the way, I'm creating a playlist for Everlark. If anyone's interested, I'll drop the link!

Glitter and shining faces and the stifling aromas that are wafting from each person as they pass by us. It’s almost midnight and it seems as if these people don’t have any intention on stopping. Some are even just barely arriving, running up to us to air kiss our cheeks and congratulate us, gushing about how they just adore us and we are the cutest couple they’ve ever met.

I'm tired of this show we have to put on. I wish we could leave already.

Peeta’s hand never leaves my waist and my cheeks are hurting with all the forced smiles. But since it’s almost midnight, Effie will be coming to usher us onto the train and back to District Twelve. At Twelve, we just need to get through the Harvest Festival and after that, the cameras will be gone. We can go back to the shattered pieces of our lives. At least until the Capitol comes calling again.

I’m almost done with the chocolate flower I’ve been nibbling on when Effie finally makes an appearance. But she isn’t smiling. Something happened. It must be horrible to take the smile from Effie’s face.

Peeta’s hand tightens just a little around my waist. He’s noticed that something’s wrong too.

“I really do apologize about this, but there’s been a sudden change in our schedule,” Effis says with a small huff.

Effie loves her schedules, but is that why she’s so upset?

“What do you mean? I thought we were leaving at midnight?” Peeta asks.

“President Snow has offered you both a skin treatment appointment at nine tomorrow morning.” Effie looks at us. “I couldn’t possibly say no to him, but this pushes us back by almost a whole day at least.” She looks back at her clipboard and starts making changes to the schedule again. Her frown wouldn’t go away.

“That long?” I ask. With all the work we’ve had done on our appearance, it doesn’t take our prep teams that long anymore with our skin. If anything, it takes a max of five hours to get _completely_ ready, with make-up and our clothes.

“Oh, this is a new type of skin treatment. It isn’t even available to the public yet and the waiting list is _years_ long.” Part of her smile returned, as it always did when she spoke about Capitol fashion and the latest trends. “Consider yourselves lucky. Your skin is going to be feeling as soft as the day you were born! But it is an intensive procedure and you’ll have to be unconscious for it.”

I shake my head. If this is from Snow, there has to be some kind of ulterior motive. He has to be trying to cover up some other procedure with this ‘skin treatment’. “I don’t want to do it,” I say.

Effie clicks her tongue and looks at me with her head tilted, as if reminding a child that they can not go outside and play in the rain. “This is an engagement gift from the president himself! You can not reject it, no matter how much you want to. And you should be honored, Katniss. He only wants the both of you looking your absolute best on your wedding day.”

Peeta’s hand slides off my waist. “I think what Katniss is trying to say is that she doesn’t feel comfortable with the idea of being unconscious during the procedure. And if I’m being honest, neither do I.”

“Oh, none of that,” Effie says with a wave of her hand. “It is completely harmless and the only reason you have to be unconscious is because the procedure is so long and they need you absolutely still.”

“But when they first brought us to the Capitol and had to get us to beauty base zero, they didn’t have to knock us out for it,” I add.

“What would you have me do?” she asks, a hint of tiredness entering her voice. “Go up to President Snow and say that you respectfully decline? No. That is not happening. You two are going to do this skin treatment and you are going to be _grateful_. Understood?”

I glare at her, but Peeta gives a small sigh. “All right,” he relents.

Effie smiles. “Wonderful! Now we better get going so you two can get some rest. And don’t worry at all about how this is going to affect the schedule. I’ll make some calls, rearrange things, and when we get back to Twelve, we will still have a nice celebration!”

She proceeds to parade us around the banquet hall, making sure we say goodbye to all the important people. More handshakes and air kisses and smiles and Peeta’s hand back on my waist.

It’s after one by the time we finally get the car that will take us back to the penthouse. I’m exhausted and I close my eyes for just a moment.

But then I feel someone gently shaking my arm.

“Come on, Katniss. We’re back.”

I open my eyes, not realizing I had fallen asleep. I take Peeta’s hand as he helps me out of the car, but I’m still half asleep. I link my arm through his, resting my head on his shoulder and allowing him to guide up to the penthouse.

In the elevator, Effie gives us some kind of instruction for tomorrow. I don’t register a word, but I feel Peeta’s chest rumbling a little as he responds to her.

He leads me to my room and at the doorway, he steps back to go to his own. I’m aware enough to grab his hand before he can leave. I might be exhausted, but I know once I get into that bed and close my eyes, the nightmares will be there waiting.

“I’m just going to change. I’ll be back,” he says.

His answer satisfies me. I let go and use the time he’s gone to change out of my gown and wash my face clean of the makeup.

By the time he comes back in my room, I’m a little bit more awake, sitting on the edge of my bed and yanking out the pins and clips in my hair.

Peeta winces a little as he see me give a harsh tug and several strands of hair come away with the clip I’ve pulled out. “Let me help,” he says, sitting next to me.

Our hands are tangled in my hair. He’s gently undoing the clips and braids, while I’m beyond frustrated and I want to go to sleep and I keep pulling harder than necessary.

“Okay, why don’t I do it,” Peeta says, grabbing my hands and preventing me from yanking out a huge clump of hair.

I huff, but let my hands fall to my lap while his fingers still work through my hair. He passes me all the different hair pieces as he pulls them out. I count them and realize I’ve never even owned this many hair clips, bands, or pins in my entire _life_.

And here I am, sitting in the lap of luxury in the Capitol, with enough hair items that could go distributed to every Seam girl and they would get at least two pieces.

Then tomorrow is our skin treatment, leaving our skin softer than even the mayor’s hands back in Twelve.

“I have a bad feeling about tomorrow,” I whisper.

Peeta hands me a clip. “Me too, but what can we do?”

He pulls out the last pin and cards his fingers through my hair, untangling any stray knots, and then he starts massaging my scalp a little.

I close my eyes and lean into the touch, but before I can fully appreciate the feeling, it’s gone. I groan, turning to stare at him. “Why’d you stop?”

Peeta scoffs a little. “Because I’m tired too,” he says, getting under the blankets and making himself comfortable. “We’ve gotta get up early tomorrow.”

His answer annoys me, but I’m too tired to argue. I lay down next to him, immediately molding myself into his side. I fall asleep with him still running his fingers through my hair.

I feel like I had just closed my eyes when an Avox is waking me up. By the way she keeps pointing to the clock on the wall, I assume I’m going to be late if I don’t hurry up. Peeta’s not in the room. He always wakes up before me.

When I walk out, Peeta’s waiting for me at the dining table. He tosses me a muffin and stands. “Ready to go then?”

“We have to leave already?”

Peeta waves a piece of paper in front of me. “Yeah. Effie left this note explaining everything. Even gave us a schedule for the day. So, if we don’t want to be late and throw the whole thing off, we need to get going.”

“Would it really be such a bad idea if we did throw everything off?” I mutter, taking the paper from him. I glance at the words, but don’t pay too much attention. I’m thinking about how much I want to crawl back into bed and fall asleep. I’m too tired to even consider what else might happen to us during this ‘skin treatment’ that Snow has so generously gifted to us.

I manage to get in a few bites of the muffin, before we’re ushered out of the penthouse, into a car that’s waiting for us.

I stare out the window, watching the people on the streets and all the tall buildings. The sky is almost impossible to see with all the tall buildings. During my few days in the Capitol, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a tree that was free to grow as it wanted. Everything, down to the grass is cut and sculpted into what the Capitol defines as perfection.

Even though Twelve has it’s own problem, hunger being the main issue, I would much rather live there than stay longer than a week in the Capitol.

The car pulls up to a building and we’re escorted inside. As soon as we step into the building, Peeta and I are separated. I hear Peeta start questioning what exactly is going to happen and why we can’t be in the same room. He’s shuffled into a room and the door closes before I can hear any other protests.

The nurse, at least I assume she’s a nurse, has me strip and lay down on a table. My cheeks turning pink. I’m a little more used to this with my prep team, but bring in someone new and I'm just as shy and awkward as the first time. She explains to me the procedure, except I don’t understand a word from all the medical jargon she throws around.

For a moment, I wonder if she’s only saying things to disorient me even more.

While she’s talking, she grabs a needle and fills it with a clear liquid. I flinch as she pokes it into the crook of my elbow. She starts saying something about counting backwards from one hundred, but everything starts to feel fuzzy as soon as the liquid entered my bloodstream.

“One hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight…”

* * *

By the time I wake up, it’s dark outside. I’m back at the penthouse.

I sit up, feeling oddly sore all over the place. I rub my head a little, trying to shake off the remaining fog. For a moment, I think that the skin treatment never happened. That I’m waking up in the middle of the night because my body has registered Peeta’s absence.

But when I walk out of the room, I know that’s not the case.

I can hear Haymitch’s raised voice as he’s no doubt arguing with Effie.

“I still don’t understand why I wasn’t notified about it! Don’t you think I have a right to know?”

“You have absolutely no relation to either of them, so there really was no reason for you to be told.” Effie answers back.

“I’m their mentor! Isn’t that enough?!”

“No, it’s not.”

Haymitch is pacing while Effie and Peeta are sitting at the dining table. Effie is scribbling something down on her clipboard, while Peeta stares at his empty plate, lost in thought.

“Haymitch, I realize this is a first for you. Peeta and Katniss are the first tributes that you have helped make it through the arena.” Effie puts down her pen and focuses on Haymitch. “Of course you’re going to feel a bit protective of them. But they are in good hands here. I wouldn’t put them in a position that might risk their safety.”

“No, you just plucked their names from that stupid bowl,” Haymitch growls.

Effie sputters. “Now, that is completely different!”

They start into a new argument and Peeta rolls his neck, as if this is not the first time they’ve switched subjects in their argument.

As he does, he finally catches sight of me.

He straightens in his chair. “Katniss. How’re you feeling?”

The argument between our mentor and our escort stops as the attention is now on me. I move to sit down next to Effie and across from Peeta. “I’m tired and I’m sore,” I mutter. I grab a plate and start serving myself some of the food.

Effie clicks her tongue. “You shouldn’t be feeling any kind of pain.” She reaches out to touch my skin and frowns. “Hmm, your skin feels the same…”

“And so does Peeta's,” says Haymitch, plopping down right next to him. “I’m telling you, they did something else to them.”

Panic starts building in my stomach as I lock eyes with Peeta.

But Effie waves off all the concern. She starts saying that maybe our cells need time to regenerate and all kinds of words that I vaguely remembering hearing in my last year at school during science, but never paid attention because that did not directly relate to making sure my family had food in their bellies ever night.

“Wow, Effie, I didn’t realize you knew so much about the human body,” Haymitch says, a hint of tease in his voice. “Maybe you should’ve been a lab assistant. I know I wouldn’t mind seeing you wearing a white coat.”

Effie gives an exaggerated eye roll and the conversation devolves into another argument, but it isn’t as serious as the one I interrupted.

Even though whatever tension was in the air when I walked out of the room is gone, I still catch Haymitch glancing over at Peeta and me with concern in his eyes.

Before going to bed, Effie gives us a quick breakdown of tomorrow’s schedule, that she’ll be waking us up earlier than usual because we have a train to catch and she will not be delaying the Harvest Festival any longer.

Peeta and I curl up into each other’s arms again. Before falling asleep, Peeta says, “I’m not sore.”

I tilt my head to look at him. “What?”

“I’m not sore,” he repeats. “I mean, maybe we had different reactions, but I just…I don’t know, think it’s a little weird.”

I purse my lips. This is the last thing I want to think about. Those twelve hours that I lost because of the skin treatment. I can speculate and think of all kinds of horrible things Snow might have done, but I’m tired. I want to go to sleep.

“It’s going to be okay,” I say softly, mostly to reassure myself. “We’re going to be okay.”

Peeta’s hand gently squeezes my shoulder, before he relaxes a bit more and soon I’m lulled to sleep by his chest rising and falling with his sleeping breaths.

We get on the train the next morning, Peeta awake and refreshed and me glaring at him for having the audacity to have this much energy in the morning. I still feel a little sore, but I’m able to take a nap in the back cabin, spread out on the couch while Peeta is staring out the window with a sketch pad in hand. I wake up feeling cramps, but I don’t mention it. I know both Peeta and Haymitch will only worry that maybe something else was done during the skin treatment.

I have enough of those thoughts running through my mind. I don’t need to hear them voiced by either of them.

Back at Twelve, we’re back on schedule as if we hadn’t lost an entire day. I don’t think anyone would’ve actually realized it if Effie hadn’t constantly brought it up every chance she got. She even made a little speech about it halfway through the meal, explaining that it wasn’t her fault and that it was because our dear President Snow wanted to give me and Peeta an engagement gift.

I considered taking the fork in my hand and stabbing myself with it.

But the cramping from before comes back before I can focus too much on my humiliation. My jaw clenches as I try to ignore the pain and keep up the smiling face that I know the Capitol wants from me.

Peeta notices though.

“Are you okay?” he asks, halfway through Effie’s speech.

“It’s just cramps. It’ll pass,” I reply.

They never did though. They were always there, pulsating softly or shooting sharp jabs of pain.

I don’t actually end up focusing too much on them though. Because so many other things happen, like Gale’s whipping and his recovery, trying to make plans with Haymitch and Peeta about running away, jumping the electric fence and hurting my ankle enough to be put on bed rest by my mother.

But once I’m put on bed rest, the cramps finally seem to go away.

And it’s replaced by a nausea that’s constant at all hours of the day.

The first time the nausea is triggered is when Peeta comes by with some strawberry muffins for Prim.

“It’s a new recipe,” he says, settling on the bed beside me and balancing the plate in one hand.

Prim grins as she jumps on the bed, reaching over to grab one. “I _love_ strawberries!” she exclaims.

Peeta goes on to explain what he did differently, adding some extra cinnamon and using actual cow milk instead of milk from her goat.

I can’t focus on his words though. I just smell the cinnamon. I never remember smelling something that _strong_.

My stomach churns and by the time I realize that I can’t stop myself from throwing up, it’s too late.

I manage to grab a vase with flowers that have started to wilt from my nightstand and all my breakfast comes right back up.

Peeta holds my hair back while Prim runs off to get Mom.

Then my mother’s there, taking the vase away and replacing it with a bucket. My stomach heaves a few more times, but nothing else comes up. I set the bucket down, grimacing at a few splotches that got on the floor.

I groan easing myself back onto the pile of pillows propping me. “I want to brush my teeth,”

My mother ignored me though, pressing her hand against my forehead and cheeks. “What did you have for breakfast?”

“Same thing as everyone else,” I grumble.

“No…you were the only one that had cheese buns…” Peeta says softly. “I always check everything to make sure nothing went bad, but maybe I missed something?”

I shake my head, regretting the decision as I now feel dizzy. “It wasn’t that, it was…”

The cinnamon had smelled so _strong_.

“I don’t know,” I mumble.

My mother purses her lips as she tries to figure out how to diagnose me. “You don’t have a fever…it could be a bug.” She turns to Peeta. “I’m sorry, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. She might be contagious and I don’t want you to get it too.”

Peeta nods. “Do you want me to leave you one?” he asks, picking up the plate of strawberry muffins.

I gag as I catch another whiff of the cinnamon. “No, just get them out of here.”

I don’t miss the hurt and confused look on his face, but he still hurries out, taking the muffins with him.

My mother gives me a curious look.

“What?” I ask her. It looks as if she’s finishing a puzzle and doesn’t like what the end result is.

She shakes her head, clearing her face of the expression. “Come on, I’ll help you to the restroom. Prim, bring a cup of ginger tea.”

Even though I’m told I won’t be having any visitors for the next few days, just in case I am contagious, I still hear Haymitch lumbering up the stairs the next day.

“What are you doing here?” I ask as soon as he settles into the chair.

“Can’t be picky with who visits you right now. You mom told me everyone’s been banned except for her and your sister,” he says.

“Which brings me back to my question. What are you doing here?”

Haymitch shrugs. “Your mom told me I might get sick too. Told her it was probably the same thing as being hungover and that’s something I can deal with.”

I roll my eyes, but before I can say anything, he’s reaching over and grabbing my hand.

Haymitch _never_ touches us. He’s always kept his distance, as if protecting himself from getting too close.

So the gesture is surprising to say the least.

But as suddenly as he grabs my hand, he’s releasing it and leaning back in his chair with a thoughtful look. “Don’t think that skin treatment worked like it was supposed to.”

A lump forms in my throat. I haven’t thought about that skin treatment in weeks. “Guess my skin is a lot thicker than most people in the Capitol.”

Haymitch hums, a thoughtful look on his face that doesn’t do anything to calm my growing worry. But he doesn’t say anything else about it and after a few minutes, he leaves.

I wish he hadn’t come, because now I’m thinking about that stupid skin treatment again and what they might’ve actually done. Was I poisoned and it’s only now starting to show it’s effects? And what about Peeta? Was he dealing with any possible symptoms?

I want to go into the woods and clear my head. But even if I didn’t have this ankle injury, the electric fence is on and I’d never make it back out a second time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for the kudos/comments! Every time a notification for one came in, it just made my day! Hope you enjoy this new chapter!
> 
> Also, just so you know, next chapter will kind of be the last before we move on into full AU mode. Then, there is going to be bits from the Mockingjay, but you'll figure that out once it comes.

At least twice a week, I’m throwing up. My quarantine is extended since my mother she can’t figure out what’s wrong and whether or not I’m contagious.

I don’t sleep very much. Especially since Peeta isn’t there to chase away the nightmares.

It finally gets to the point that I figure out what triggers my nausea.

Cinnamon. Cabbage. Liquor.

I can easily avoid cabbage and liquor, I just need to tell Haymitch to lay off and he’s already having to with all the restrictions Thread has been enforcing.

Cinnamon is going to be harder to avoid because half of the things Peeta makes involves cinnamon. But I know if I ask him, he’ll throw out ever single bottle of cinnamon that he has. I won’t ask that of him though, because Prim’s favorite breads are the ones that have lots of cinnamon.

Three weeks later, I’ve figured out a way to hide from Mom the fact that I’m still throwing up much more than usual and she allows visitors again.

The first person to visit me is Peeta.

He just finished backing a batch of cinnamon rolls for Prim.

I’m able to make it to the bathroom this time with his help. Again, he holds my hair back and I feel him turning a little to call out for my mother.

“No,” I say hoarsely. I spit into the toilet to try and clear my mouth. I grimace as I flush the toilet and move to sit on the edge of the tub. “Don’t tell her.”

Peeta frowns. “Katniss, something’s wrong. She needs to know.”

“She’s going to quarantine me again and I’m going to go insane being stuck in my room all day and I can’t even get out of bed because of my foot. I’m not contagious. I just…”

“You just what?”

“Have a more sensitive stomach now.”

Peeta’s raised eyebrow makes it clear he doesn’t believe a word.

“Just…when you bake with cinnamon, can you not bring it over? If it’s for Prim, tell her to go to your house to eat it.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, it smells really strong right now and I don’t like the way it smells.”

“And you think that’s what makes you throw up?”

“It’s been true so far of cabbage and liquor.”

Peeta purses his lips. Then he nods. “No more cinnamon then.”

Before he leaves, I reach out and grab his hands. They’re smoother than mine, but I can still feel the burns and callouses he’s built up over the years, kneading bread and working with the oven. “Guess that skin treatment wasn’t all that great,” I mumble.

“They should probably give Snow a refund. Not that it would even matter to him.”  
  
I bite the inside of my cheek in thought. “You haven’t been feeling sick, have you?”

He shakes his head. “Do you think you’re sick because of the skin treatment?”

I blow out a heavy breath. “I don’t know.”

Winter is starting to melt away and my foot is deemed usable. My mother gives me exercises to build up the strength in my foot again. Every day, it hurts a little bit less and I’m actually confident that I can make it into town on my own after being stuck indoors for two months.

But on the morning that I planned on leaving, Venia, Octavia, and Flavius are grinning down at me as I'm waking up.

“Surprise!” they squeal. “We’re here early!”  
  
I want to bury my face in my pillow. They’re a whole three weeks early. Still, I plaster a smile on my face.

I’m supposed to be excited. They’re here for bridal photo shoot.  
  
For the wedding that I completely forgot was even happening.  
  
While they’re prepping me, the conversation flows between the three of them. Rumors and gossip and debate over who threw the best party this season and then Octavia mentions not being able to get shrimp.  
  
After some subtle questioning, I come to the conclusion that District Four has revolted.  
  
I finally join in the conversation, trying to figure out what other districts might possibly be revolting as well.  
  
Halfway through complaining about his favorite watch breaking and the repairs taking forever in District Three for repairs, Flavius stops. “Katniss, have you put on weight?”  
  
I frown at him. “No. I don’t think so.” But maybe I did. I was stuck in bed for two months doing absolutely nothing.

He frowns, going back to trying to zip me up. Venia joins him holding the fabric together while he works at the zipper.

I hold my breath, sucking in my stomach as much as I can.

Finally, the zipper goes up and I’m in the first bridal gown of the shoot.

Cinna finally comes in from wherever he was and gives me a hug then turns my cheek as he examines my scar from Thread’s whip.

“I think we need to take her measurements again,” Venia says. “It was incredibly difficult trying to get her into this dress.

Cinna frowns and before he can ask, I give him a story about slipping on ice. That’s where the scar came from and my foot injury. I was on bed rest for two months, which I still use as an excuse for my weight gain.

He doesn’t seem to believe me, but he doesn’t question me.

The photographers and cameramen take hundreds of pictures in each dress. Cinna makes them turn off the cameras during the changes though. Because each dress is hard to put on and I can see the concern growing in Cinna’s eyes.  
  
No one else seems to think it’s a big deal though. Effie and my prep team have all kinds of compliments. It's surreal, listening to them talk about all the wedding plans and debating among themselves which dress is going to win.

I push all those thoughts from my mind. Because then that would lead me to thinking about the future and the actual wedding and all of my future decisions being made solely for the entertainment and appeasement of the Capitol.  
  
During one of my wardrobe changes, I catch Cinna exchanging a few words with my mother. And I can tell she’s now concerned too about my weight gain.

The day is finally over and I’m out of those stuffy dresses. My measurements are taken again and I’m informed I have gained a few inches in my abdomen.

“Oh, but that can easily be corrected with a simple surgery next time you’re in the Capitol,” Effie says, as if having more weight than what the Capitolites consider normal is a bad thing.

In District Twelve, you’d be considered blessed if you had any extra fat.  
  
Before I can fall asleep into what I’m sure will be a night filled with nightmares, there’s a knock on my door.

“Come in,” I call out, sitting up in bed.

The door opens and Cinna’s standing there.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, feeling my heart rate spike.

Cinna doesn’t answer the question. Instead, he says, “Come walk with me outside.”  
  
"But it's late," I say, glancing at the night sky outside.  
  
Cinna shrugs. "Thought you might like some fresh air. Besides, we didn't get much of a chance to talk today and since I'm leaving first thing tomorrow, this might be our only chance."

I finally agree, pulling on some shoes and a jacket.

My mother is in the kitchen drinking a cup of tea and gives me a small nod as we walk out of the house. She has a strange expression on her face, but I don’t want to try and decipher it. We walk slowly down the road leading out of the Victor’s Village, my ankle still feeling a little sore, but it’s bearable.

“Your mother was telling me you had a nasty stomach bug earlier,” Cinna finally says, once we’re a safe distance away from any recording devices in the Victor’s Village.

I roll my eyes. “It wasn’t that bad. I never had a fever, I just…” I shrugged. “I’d get nauseated.”

Cinna gives a small nod. “And you’re okay now?”

I debate telling him the truth. He might tell my mother. “Sort of. I can’t stand the smell of cinnamon, cabbage, or liquor. At least it's a good excuse to avoid Haymitch.”

Cinna huffs out a rare laugh. Then his face gets serious again. “Well, I’m sorry to say that we’re actually on our way to meet him right now.”

A thousand questions fill my mind. Maybe I was right about the other districts fighting back. Maybe they’re going to tell me everything they know.

Maybe they have a plan to get us out of here.

We make our way to the Seam. Cinna walks through the winding streets as if he knows exactly where he was going. Which I’m sure he does if he and Haymitch already agreed on this meeting.

We stop at an abandoned house. Cinna gives three quick knocks on the door.

Haymitch opens the door and I can immediately smell the liquor. But he doesn’t look drunk.

He actually looks a little sad.

We walk into the house and once the door closes, Haymitch says to Cinna, “Got what you wanted. I’m sure my pristine reputation is going to be ruined by tomorrow morning.” He tosses him a box. Cinna catches it, looking at it for a moment, before handing it to me.

I almost drop it once I realize what it is.

A pregnancy test.

“What am I supposed to do this?” My voice takes on a slight hint of hysteria. Is this some kind of joke that Haymitch pulled Cinna into?

“You pee on the stick, but you should still read the instructions,” Haymitch says, leaning against an old table.

I shake my head. “No. I’m not taking this. I’m not…I’ve never…I _can’t_ be pregnant.”  
  
“Katniss, when’s the last time you had your cycle?” Cinna says, placing a hand on my shoulder to ground me.

I blink and I find that I can’t actually remember. When I finally do, I realize it was at the beginning of the Victory Tour.

And that was three months ago.

Still, I shake my head. “No, you don’t understand. It’s _impossible_. I’ve never…” I swallow hard, glancing over at Haymitch who’s waiting with a tiny smirk to see how exactly I’ll phrase what I’m about to say. “I haven’t ever done _that_.”

“I believe you,” Cinna says gently. “But we still need you to take the test.”

I want to yell at them. This is ridiculous! But arguing with them isn’t going to get me anywhere.

“There’s a bathroom down that hallway,” Haymitch says, pushing off the table to actually sit in one of the chairs.

I throw a glare at him before walking down the small hall to the bathroom. There’s no lock on the door and I try to find something to prop up against the door, but there’s nothing. I settle on just closing it and if I stretch enough, I can keep it closed with my foot. I read through the instructions, annoyed that I basically need to pee on the stick. Like Haymitch said.

And as soon as I’m done, I set it on the sink and wait for the results. I don’t want to come out until I see that negative sign, wave it in Haymitch’s face and say, ‘I told you so.’

But as the minutes pass, my stomach starts to forming knots. What if something was done to me while I was in the Capitol? Would that even be possible?

Once enough time has passed, I’m actually terrified to look.

I had that skin treatment three months ago, right after my last cycle now that I think about it. What if Snow did have something else done to me?

There’s knocking on the door. “Katniss?” Cinna calls out. “Katniss, we need to know the results.”

I swallow hard as I pick up the test.

Positive.

Next thing I know, I’m throwing up into the sink.

Cinna gets the door open and pulls back my hair as I continue gagging.

Haymitch lingers in the doorway and reaches over to grab the test. “Well shit,” he mumbles.

When I’m finally done, I open the faucet to rinse my mouth.

Except there’s no water.

“Yeah, plumbing here hasn’t worked for years. Probably should’ve warned you about that,” Haymitch says. In the back of my mind, I make the connection that this is probably the home he grew up in.

It’s getting hard to breathe. Almost like I’m drowning. Maybe it’s better that I drown. Because that would mean no more games, no more lies, no more Snow.

Then I feel Cinna pushing my head in between my legs and telling me to breathe.

The drowning feeling begins to ebb, but my chest feels so heavy.

Positive.

Pregnant.

I am pregnant.

Cinna’s leading me out of the bathroom and back to the front room. He sits me down at the table and I know he’s talking.

But I can’t hear him over the buzzing in my head.

Positive.

Pregnant.

I am pregnant.

I never wanted to have kids. I never wanted to bring a child into this world where they would inevitably have some kind of role in the games.

“How?” I finally mumble, looking up at Cinna and Haymitch.

“Think it happened when they did that skin treatment during the Victory Tour,” Haymitch says.

My insides twist. I feel sick.

I _knew_ it. I knew there was some other purpose behind Snow’s engagement gift.

“So…someone just…” I squeeze my eyes shut. Anything could’ve happened while I was unconscious for those twelve hours. Anyone could’ve come in and…I can’t even bring myself to _think_ the word.

“Not exactly,” Cinna says. “There’s a procedure that’s fairly common in the Capitol when a couple can’t conceive. Insemination.”

I remember hearing about it from my mother once. People used to do it before the war too.

But Peeta had a skin treatment too. I don’t have anything left in my stomach to throw up, but I still feel it churning.

“They took what they needed from Peeta and did the procedure to you.”

“No. No, this can not be happening. I can’t…” I look from Cinna to Haymitch, waiting for one of them to have an answer to this. A solution. Any kind of suggestion as to what can be done. Because they are the _adults_.

But neither of them say anything.

“I can’t have it. I can’t…I have to get rid of it. My mother, she…there’s a tea I can drink and I don’t know how effective it is, but I _can’t_ have this...”

_Baby._

“President Snow already knows you’re pregnant.” Cinna’s voice is calm. And usually I appreciate that he always has a calm demeanor.

But right now, it only infuriates me.

“I can have a miscarriage! It happens all the time here!”

“So, you have one. Then what? This is your life now, sweetheart. Snow’s going to make sure he keeps you under control and what better way to do that then to make sure you settle down with the love of your of life and start popping out babies. You have a miscarriage now, he’s going to damn well make sure you end up pregnant again one way or another.”

Bile comes up throat.

I wonder what would’ve happened if I had run away while I still had the chance?

“I can’t tell him,” I whisper. I can already imagine the shock on his face when I tell him I’m pregnant with his child. But underneath that shock, I’m almost certain there would be some kind of hope or even happiness. Because isn’t this what he’s always wanted? To have a family with the girl he loves.

I don’t think I could face him.

Cinna speaks up. “I’ll talk to him before I leave tomorrow.”

I think back to the day before Prim was reaped. Everything was much simpler then. The biggest worry I had was would I be able to hunt enough to make sure my family had enough food to survive. Now everything has changed so much. And it keeps changing and I am not prepared for any of it.

Haymitch walks with me back home. He doesn’t say anything. And I’m glad. I don’t think I could stand to hear any of his sarcastic comments. Thankfully, he’s sober enough to realize it and I’m even sure that if he was drunk, he would still understand the gravity of the situation.

The next morning, my mother asks if I’m going to the train station to see everyone off. I tell her no. That I’m not feeling well, and I pushed myself too much yesterday with my foot. I also make sure that she knows I don’t want to see anyone. Because Cinna should’ve told Peeta the news by now. I’m sure that after the train leaves, he's going to come straight here and say that we need to talk.

I don’t want to talk to him. I just want to lay here in bed and pretend for a little bit longer that none of this is happening.

When Prim comes home from school, she announces that there’s a mandatory programming tonight. “I think it’s going to be your photo shoot!” she says, her body vibrating from excitement.

I argue with her a little, saying it’s way too soon. But maybe she’s right. I haven’t had the chance to tell Gale, to prepare him.

Then I wonder if the weight I’ve started to gain is going to be obvious and what if everyone will be able to tell that I’m pregnant?

It isn’t until this very moment that I wonder what Gale is going to think about the pregnancy. What would he have thought if we had run away from Twelve and the news came out then?

I don’t linger on it, but what might he have accused me of?

At seven-thirty, the mandatory programming comes on. And there’s Caesar Flickerman in a crowded Training Center with Cinna as his special guest. They’re showing all the pictures of me in my bridal downs. Cinna gives a commentary on the inspiration for each piece and the story behind the accessories. With every picture, the crowd reacts, cheering for their favorites, booing the ones they don’t like. Even this is a game to them, voting on what dress should be my wedding gown.

Then Caesar moves on to begin what I’m sure was the real announcement of the evening.

The third Quarter Quell.

I’m glad I haven’t eaten much that day. Because when President Snow comes on the screen, I feel my stomach churning. I’m nervous. Wondering what new horrors this man has come up with.

_“On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors.”_

As my mind begins to make the connection that I am going back into the arena, I’m already running out the door. I don’t make it even five steps before I throw up what little I did eat.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So i am super excited for the next chapter because that's when we officially go into complete AU territory and I'm excited to hear your thoughts!
> 
> Thank you always for your kind comments and every single kudos that's left! They always bring a smile to my face. Let me know what you think of this next chapter and I hope you lovelies enjoy it!

I stare at the bottle of white liquor on Haymitch’s table. He’s asking me what I want. That Peeta’s already talked to him, asked him to make sure I’m the one to make it out of the arena.

“It’d be a two for one deal. If I get you out, then that baby makes it out alive too.”

I grab the white liquor, even though the smell already has me gagging. As soon as it’s in my hands, it’s quickly taken away.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?! You can’t be drinking any of this stuff right now!” he yells.

“Why not? It's not like it matters anymore. I’m going back into the arena and he’s the one that has to make it out this time. If it comes down to it and it’s Peeta and me in the arena, we try to keep _him_ alive.”

“I’m not too sure of that, sweetheart. Peeta’s argument is that since I chose you, I now owe him. Anything he wants. And what he wants is the chance to go in again to protect yo mu and the baby.”

It doesn’t surprise me at all. While I hid out in some abandoned shack and felt sorry for myself, Peeta was already trying to figure out how to save me.

“You could live a hundred lifetimes and not deserve him, you know,” Haymitch says.

I eye the liquor bottle. He’s right. “He’s the superior one in this trio. So, what are you going to do?”

Haymitch takes another drink of the alcohol. “You got in me a tough spot right now. Save the pregnant one or the best one of us.”

“The Capitol hates me so much, I’m as good as dead now. He still might have a chance. Please, Haymitch. Say you’ll help me.”

“Don’t think they’ll hate you once they find out their little procedure worked.”

If my body has already started to change because of the pregnancy, there will be no hiding it once games come around. But it doesn’t matter. Peeta _has_ to make it out of the arena. “Please, Haymitch.”

He frowns at his bottle, weighing my words. “All right,” he says finally.

“Thanks,” I say. I should go see Peeta now, but I don’t want to. I want to avoid him for as long as possible. Even after knowing he wanted Haymitch to save me _and_ the baby.

Haymitch is right. I could never deserve him.

I go back home instead, mentally preparing myself to face my mother and Prim. As I’m walking up the front steps to the house, the front door opens and Gale pulls me into his arms. “I was wrong. We should have gone when you said,” he whispers.

“No,” I say. Who knows how long it would’ve taken for me to realize I’m pregnant if we had run away? And what would we have done then? How would Gale feel taking care of someone else’s child?

“It’s not too late,” he says.

“Yeah, it is.”

It was too late by the time I came back from the Victory Tour.

I move past him and into the house. I don’t even look at my mother or Prim as I walk upstairs to my room and collapse on my bed.

The door opens a few minutes later and Prim comes in, snuggling close to me in bed. I fall asleep crying, with her whispering soft words and her fingers running through my hair.

When I wake up, Prim is still there. She must’ve skipped school, because the sun is already at it’s high point in the sky. My mother’s also there, waiting with a plate of toast and a mug of tea for me.

I sit up and force myself to drink the tea and take a few bites of the toast. Then I mumble that I just want to go back to sleep and they let me. I deserve one day of indulgence.

The sun is starting to go down the next time I wake up. I go downstairs and see my mother and Prim sitting at the dining table. Their eyes are red, but they don’t say anything. They just hug me again.

I don’t know which is worse. Crying and words of encouragement that don’t mean a thing in the end, or their brave faces as I’m faced with death once again.

I decide to visit Haymitch again. My mother hands me two flasks of broth before I leave. I’ve only had a few bites of toast all day and I’m sure Haymitch only has liquor in his stomach. I don’t knock, walking in to see him beginning to wake up on his own after a binge. I hand him the flask of broth and we sit in the silence.

There’s movement upstairs and I assume it’s from Hazelle, but a few minutes later Peeta comes down and tosses a cardboard box of empty liquor bottles on the table with finality. “There, it’s done,” he says.

Haymitch is staring at the emptied bottles, trying to figure out what Peeta’s talking about, so I speak up for him. “What’s done?”

It’s the first thing I’ve said to him since we both found out about the pregnancy. Actually, it’s the first time we’re even in the same room since the news.

“I’ve poured all the liquor down the drain,” says Peeta.

He and Haymitch immediately get into an argument. He says, “Two of us are coming home from the Capitol.” He catches my eye when he says this and I know he’s thinking that technically three of us are coming home. Because it’s still his plan for me to be the one to survive. His tone is actually harsh as he shares his plan of creating a rigorous training schedule so that we can essentially become ‘careers’.

When he’s done with his tirade, he walks out, slamming the front door and not even looking back.

This was definitely not how I imagine our first meeting going after the two announcements.

“I think you’re starting to rub off on him,” Haymitch grumbles, reaching out to stroke one of the empty bottles.

Before we begin any kind of training schedule, I have to talk to him. Or at least let him talk while I just sit there and listen. Tonight I can't. I have a feeling he needs space still for everything that's going to really sink in. And it's another excuse for me to put it off just a little bit longer.

The next day, I know i have to talk to him. I cross the twenty-five yards to his front porch and let myself in. I find him in his kitchen making muffins. He glances up at me as he kneads out some dough. “Don’t worry. There’s no cinnamon in them.”

I sit on the stool at the kitchen bar where he’s working. I pick at some blueberries he has there.

“Are you going to be okay?” he starts, not looking up from the dough as he adds some vanilla. “With the training, I mean.”

“I’m not incapacitated. I’ll be fine.”

Peeta nods, but I can already imagine he’s going to provide ‘modified’ versions of the exercises for me.

He scoops a handful of blueberries and mixes them in, still leaving me a few to munch on. “You _have_ to be the one to leave the arena,” he says softly, finally looking up. “Too many people depend on you.”

“And I can’t come back from that arena without you.”

He pulls out a muffin tin and sets it on the counter before looking at me with a sad smile. “But you’d still have a little piece of me.”

“We both know anything can happen in the arena.” Just because I make it out of the arena doesn’t mean the baby would too. I’ve heard of women in less stressful situations lose a baby to miscarriage.

“You’re going to make it out,” Peeta says, more determination in his voice this time. He’s scooping out the batter and placing them in small paper cups for the muffin tin. “You _and_ the baby.”

I look down at my stomach. I’m wearing baggy clothes so it isn't obvious. But I do know there’s a small bump there. I wouldn’t have ever noticed it if I hadn’t tried on all those bridal gowns. “It doesn’t feel real,” I whisper.

Peeta sticks the muffins in the oven and turns to look at him. But his eyes are focused on my hidden stomach. “Yeah,” he whispers back.

I shift uncomfortably. Peeta’s always wanted kids. A dark thought in my mind surfaces. He might actually be a little bit happy about this. The girl he’s always loved pregnant with his kid.

But I know him. He would never have wanted it to happen his way. He wouldn’t be happy about something like this.

“Let’s go for a walk,” he says abruptly, bringing me out of my thoughts.

I get up, following him outside. It isn’t until we’re out of the Victor’s Village that Peeta speaks up.

“It doesn’t make any sense. Snow did this.” He gestures towards my stomach. “But then he’s planning on throwing you back into the arena?”

I purse my lips. “He just really hates me.”

Peeta shakes his head. “Doing this was too much effort for him to have you go back into the arena. He’s has to be planning something else.”

“Like what?” I can’t imagine anything worse than going into the arena pregnant.

He shrugs in response.

Then he suddenly stops and pulls me into a hug.

I don’t resist, finally able to feel everything that’s been building up over the last few days release. My shoulders even slump a little, my arms reaching up under his to hold him because he’s _steady_ and he’ll insist we can make it through this until we both believe the lie.

We start training like careers. As I expected, Peeta wants me to do modified versions of the exercises. But I argue that in the arena the other tributes aren’t going to offer to do modified fights with me.

That's the only time that we acknowledge the pregnancy. The morning sickness stops and I hide my growing belly under baggy clothes. It's easier to pretend it's not real that way. And easier to hide it from my family. But sometimes, I catch my mother giving me odd looks. It makes me wonder if she might suspect something.

I can’t tell her though. Because then Prim would find out and so would Gale and it would make everything so much harder.

The night before the reaping, my mother catches me alone in the kitchen. She presses a small pouch into my hands. “I don’t know if you can take them with you in there, but…for however long you can, take them.”

I open it and see it’s filled with pills. “What are they?”

She glances around before answering. “Prenatal vitamins,” she whispers. “I’ve been slipping them into your meals.”

My chest tightens as I stare down at the pills. This entire time, she's known. And not once did she confront me or demand an explanation. “How long?” I ask, finally looking back up at her.

She lets out a shaky breath. “I figured it out a few days after they announced the Quell.”

“Does Prim…?”

She shakes her head.

Which also means Gale doesn’t know either.

I open my mouth to say something. I’m not even sure what I can say. How can I possibly explain everything to her? That this wasn't my choice?

But she saves me from having to say anything. Instead, she wraps me in a hug that brings me back to a time when my father was alive and my mother would still smile and laugh and everything was _good_.

The moment ends too quickly. She pulls away, gives my hand a squeeze, and turns around to finish cleaning the kitchen.

I chose a jumpsuit for the reaping the next day. Before leaving to the Justice Building, I stand in front of a mirror for the first time since finding out about the pregnancy. Looking at my reflection from the side, it's easy to hide my rounded stomach and it's obvious it's not extra weight I've put on.

I look pregnant.

My hands hover over my stomach, but I don't actually touch it. It's as if touching my stomach will make this baby real. And right now, I can still pretend it's not.

But I know once I'm standing on that platform in front of all the residents of District Twelve, tumors and speculation are sure to spring up. It doesn't even matter anymore. Because I am going to be walking to my death today.

The only people I wish I could explain things to are Prim, my mother, and Gale. Everyone else doesn't matter.

I stand on the platform in front of the Justice Building, staring defiantly ahead and ignoring the few people that are more concerned with whispering and pointing than the injustice of this entire situation.

Effie pulls out my name as it’s the only name in the girls’ reaping ball. Then she catches Haymitch’s name. He barely has time to shoot me an unhappy look before Peeta has volunteered to take his place.

Our families aren’t in the Justice Building. We learn there’s a new procedure and Head Peacekeeper Thread ushers us into a car that takes us directly to the train. I’m left staring out the window, watching District 12 disappear, with all my good-byes still hanging on my lips.

Effie is throwing a fit and saying that they have no right to treat us like this. She leaves the dining cart to make several phone calls to file official complaints about this new procedure.

Haymitch sucks on his teeth as soon as she gone. “Well, sweetheart, don't think you'll be able to keep this pregnancy a secret anymore.”

I cross my arms and glare at him. “I’ll find a way.” I only say it because I hate agreeing with him.

He scoffs. “Going to be damn near impossible.”

And Haymitch was right. It was near impossible to hide my pregnancy. The prep team immediately found out once they started working on me and once they found then of course Effie did too.

“Oh, this isn’t fair!” Flauvius wailed. “You two were going to start a _family_.”

“Surely something can be done! I mean, no tribute has ever gone in _pregnant_. President Snow could postpone the games or even have someone else from your district reaped.”

“Oh, Katniss, why couldn’t you have gotten pregnant sooner? Maybe then you could’ve actually had the baby before having to go into the arena again!”

Somehow, I’m the one trying to console them even though I’m the one living through the tragedy.

I can’t deal with it and by the time Cinna shows up, I feel like crying out of pure frustration. He tells me he’ll talk to them so it won’t happen again.

“So how do you want to do this?” he asks.

“Do what?”

He waves his hands at my stomach.

I'm already at seven months, but the bump is smaller than the average woman’s. If I still wore baggy clothes, I could maybe hide it for a few more weeks. In Cinna's outfits though, it'll be obvious. “I don’t know,” I mumbled, letting my hands hang at my side.

“I can make sure it isn’t noticeable. Either way, people will be too concerned looking at your dress to see how much your figure’s changed.”

Cinna was right. He and Portia really outdid themselves this year. With a dress that is literally smoldering, I look as deadly as fire itself.

After being prepped and deemed ready for the opening ceremonies, I go out to the Remake Center where all the other tributes and their chariots are. The atmosphere is different this year. All the tributes know each other. Some of them are actually friends. I’m not really the sort of person to go around introducing myself. So I just stroke the neck of one of my horses and try not to be noticed. It doesn’t work.

Finnick Odair approaches me, talking to me as if we’ve known each other for our whole lives.

He asks me what happened to my little-girl dresses.

“I outgrew them,” I say.

Finnick pops a sugar cube into his mouth and smirks. “In more ways than one. Or so I’ve heard.”

My head snaps up. Does he know? I stared at myself in the mirror before coming out. Cinna had done a good job at hiding my growing stomach. How could Finnick possibly know?

Then he lets out a quick breath. “It’s too bad about this Quell thing. You could have made out like a bandit in the Capitol. Jewels, money, anything you wanted.”

When I speak, I try to keep the small waver out of my voice. “I don’t like jewels, and I have more money than I need. What do you spend all yours on, anyway, Finnick?”

“Oh, I haven’t dealt in anything as common as money for years,” says Finnick.

“Then how do they pay you for the pleasure of your company?” I ask.

“With secrets,” he says softly. He tips his head in so his lips are almost in contact with mine. “What about you, girl on fire? Do you have any secrets worth my time?”

The blood drains from my face. He knows. But in defiance, I answer. “You would be the last person I tell any of my secrets to.”

Finnick grins. “That may be true, but don’t for a minute doubt that I haven’t heard whispers already.” His eyes flicker off to the side. “Peeta is coming. Sorry you have to cancel your wedding. I know how devastating that must be for you.” He tosses another sugar cube in his mouth and saunters off.

Peeta’s beside me, dressed in an outfit identical to mine. “What did Finnick Odair want?” he asks.

Finnick’s left me feeling dizzy. I pull Peeta into an embrace. “He knows,” I whisper.

Peeta pulls back, his face a mask of collected calm. But I can see the fear in his eyes. “Well, what can he do?”

I hear his unspoken words.

_It won’t matter in a few weeks_.

It’s during the training sessions, that I worry the most about being discovered. The uniforms are form fitting and Cinna isn’t allowed to make any kind of modifications. Hardly any of the tributes actually show up though. Those that do either notice immediately but don’t care enough to actually say anything or are completely oblivious due to alcohol or morphling.

With each day, I feel myself becoming even surlier. It doesn’t help that I’m not sleeping well. Peeta hasn’t stepped one foot into my room this entire time and without him, the nightmares come and always bring out my worst fears. But I’m upset with him because he laughed at me. I know it’s irrational, considering we don’t even have that much time left together, but I just can’t bring myself to get over it. It feels like a betrayal and I know part of the reason I feel so strongly about this is because of the pregnancy.

It gets bad enough that I snap at Peeta once over dinner and Haymitch laughs. “Careful boy, she’s got those crazy pregnancy hormones. Wouldn’t be surprised if she cut your finger off for looking at her the wrong way.”

A knife found it’s way in between Haymitch’s fingers after his comment. He thinks I’ll actually cut a finger off? Fine, I’ll just go ahead and prove him right.

Effie begins protesting in her shrill voice for Haymitch to control his comments and for me to stop burying knifes in the furniture.

The days drag on until finally it’s time for our private sessions. By this point, it’s impossible to hide the pregnancy from the Gamemakers.

Why do I still care so much about hiding it though? This is s all Snow’s doing.

No one would ever see it like that though. They would just see me as a poor heroine, stuck in a doomed love story.

Maybe that would win me sympathy points and therefore more gifts.

More opportunities to keep Peeta alive.

“Decided what to do for the Gamemakers yet?” Peeta asks when we’re the last ones in the waiting room.

I shake my head. “I can’t really use them for target practice this year, with the force field up and all. Maybe make some…” My voice trailed off as I felt something flutter inside me.

“Katniss?”

The baby was moving.

“Are you okay?”

It really was real.

“What’s wrong?”

Instead of answering his questions, I grab his hand and place it on my stomach.

Right where I could still feel the fluttering.

Not only is it the first time Peeta's actually touched it, but it's the first time I'm willingly touching it as well.

Peeta inhales sharply, feeling the movement as well. He swallows hard as he looks up at me.

His face is screwed up in so many different emotions, but the most prevalent one is _pain_.

The baby is real. We can both feel it kicking.

I don’t know if it will still be real in a couple of days though.

And maybe that’s for the best. Because what kind of world would this baby come into?

We give our ‘performances’ and when Haymitch finds out what we’ve done, he’s furious.

But I think there might be something else behind his mood. Either way, he dismisses us. “Go to bed. I can’t stand to look at either one of you.”

That’s the first night since the Victory Tour that I finally cave and ask Peeta to stay through the night with me.

It’s also the first night that either of us sleep through without any nightmares.

When I wake up, daylight’s streaming through the windows and I’m enveloped in his warmth. Peeta’s awake too, lightly running his fingers through my hair.

His other hand looks like it’s twitching to reach out and rub my stomach.

After yesterday, it's easier for me to grab his hand and press it to me.

He lets out a small breath and I feel his hand give a gentle squeeze. “This is _ours_ ,” he whispers.

I shake my head. “No, it’s the Capitol’s. It’s _Snow’s_.”

Peeta moves his head to look at me but doesn’t move his hand. “I know that Snow did this without either of us wanting it. But it doesn’t change the fact that there’s a piece of you and me growing here. And when you make it out of the arena, you _have_ to make sure that this baby is ours and not anyone else’s.”

I bite my lip and I want to cry again. He still doesn’t understand that I’m not coming out of that arena.

How could I live the rest of my life raising a child that I know came from a part of him?

Peeta relaxes again but keeps his hand on my stomach. The longer he keeps it there, the longer I know that this is all real and there’s nothing I can do to change it.

Tomorrow night will be the televised interview and our day will be full of coaching from Effie and Haymitch. But then an Avox girl comes in with a note from Effie saying that, given our recent tour, both she and Haymitch have agreed we can handle ourselves adequately in public. The coaching sessions have been canceled.

We spend the entire day on the roof, having a picnic and doing our best to enjoy our last moments alive together.

By late afternoon, I lie with my head on Peeta’s lap, making a crown of flowers while he fiddles with my hair, claiming he’s practicing his knots. After a while, his hands go still. “What?” I ask.

“Have you thought about names?”

I swallow hard, feeling my shoulders becoming tense. He must notice it too because his fingers go back to playing with my hair in an attempt to help me relax again. “No,” I answer.

He’s quiet for a moment, then says, “I like Johanna.”

I shoot up, faster than what I probably should because I feel dizzy, but I still manage to glare at him.

“I mean, not _Johanna_ , the other tribute, but the name. I’ve always liked that name.”

“So, you expect me to name this kid _Johanna_?”

“No, no, no, well, not anymore, especially since we met Johanna Mason and it’s really going to be up to you in the end.”

This is the last thing I want to talk about right now.

Peeta seems to realize this and shoots me an apologetic look.

I settle back in his lap though. “If we hadn’t met her, I think I could go for Johanna.”

Peeta chuckles softly. “Theo?”

“No, some kid back home named Theo liked to pull Prim’s braids. Axel?”

“Like for a wagon? We’re not from Ten that we name our kids after tools. Ginger?”

“You better think again bread boy if you think I’m going to name it after a seasoning.”

“First off, it’s a spice. Second, it’s better than naming it Cinnamon.”

I elbow him half-heartedly and he laughs.

We share different names, never actually agreeing on one. When there’s a lull in the conversation, I start to wonder what might have happened if we never were part of the Games.

Would I still be lying in Peeta’s lap, discussing baby names? Or would I be in the woods with Gale, quiet as we check our traps and always try to one up the other in who can hunt the most?

I’m almost positive Peeta’s probably thinking the same thing.

Neither of us bring it up.

Once it’s dark, we go back to my room for another night of restful sleep. The next morning, my prep team is there. The sight of Peeta and me sleeping together without making any attempt at hiding my pregnant stomach is too much for Octavia, because she bursts into tears right away.

“You remember what Cinna told us,” Venia says fiercely. Octavia nods and leaves, sobbing.

Peeta has to return to his room for prep. I won’t see him until tonight during the interviews.

My prep team nearly breaks my heart with their goodbyes. And the way they talk to me, they know it’s going to be their last words.

Before she leaves, Venia places her hands on my stomach. “You would’ve been such a good mother, Katniss,” she says, her voice breaking with tears. She hurries away before any can actually fall and she doesn’t catch my own eyes misting.

Cinna comes in to help me dress. “President Snow put in the dress order himself.”

I’m wearing the bridal dress that won the most votes.

Cinna had some adjustments done before, in order to continue hiding my stomach. He tells me he wants me to twirl at the end. He’ll give me a signal.

“I don’t know if I can handle twirling,” I say, thinking back to how my head spun when I sat up too quickly yesterday on the roof.

“Think you can manage two spins?”

I nod, but I’m not too confident about it.

We meet up with Effie, Haymitch, Portia, and Peeta at the elevator. Peeta’s in an elegant tuxedo and white gloves. The sort of thing grooms wear to get married in, here in the Capitol.

Bride and groom, ready for their shotgun wedding.

Backstage, all the other tributes are there. When Peeta and I walk in, the different conversations in the room die. They’re staring at us. No, they’re staring daggers at my wedding dress.

The perfect manipulation outfit.

I defend Cinna when Finnick says he can’t believe this what my designer chose. It was all Snow. He’s taken away any possibility of making a decision for myself in almost every aspect of my life.

Johanna comes up to me, straightening my pearl necklace and just barely brushing her fingertips on my stomach. “Make him pay for it, okay?” she says.

I nod, but I don’t know what she means. Not until we’re all sitting out onstage and the interviews start.

Every single tribute is working the crowd, stirring up the Capitolites to actually begin questioning their government and Snow himself. Almost all of them have come out fighting before we’ve actually been thrown into the arena.

I can’t hide the pregnancy anymore, even with the way Cinna's modified the dress. Tonight is the perfect time to let the world know. I have to push aside thoughts of what Gale might think without my explanation. Right now, this is about survival.

Before it’s my turn, I lean over to whisper to Peeta. “Announce it.”

Peeta looks at me with a question on his lips, but I just give him a nod. He’s the one that’s good with words. He could probably cause a riot with the way he is with words.

Once it’s my turn, those in the crowd who haven’t already been weeping, start at the sight of me in my wedding dress. I don’t say much, only speaking my regrets that there won’t be a wedding. I see Cinna give me a small wink and I know it’s time for my small twirl.

I’m able to actually do three spins before I have to stop. But it’s enough. I raise my arms and my white wedding dress transforms into the black of a mockingjay.

There’s a wild applause and I don’t get to say much else in my interview. But what I’ve said is enough. My three minutes are up and I’m taking my seat again. As I pass Peeta, our hands brush, but we don’t look up at each other.

Peeta and Caesar fall into their easy rhythm. I’m straining to hear their words over the pounding blood in my ears. I want him to say it already and get it over with.

But then he begins talking about a wedding that we had in secret. I bury my face in the folds of my sleeves, pretending to be a weeping bride, when I’m really just hiding my anxiety for what’s bound to happen next.

“I have to confess, I’m glad you two had a least a few months of happiness together,” Caesar says, putting an arm around Peeta's shoulder.

“I’m not glad,” says Peeta. “I wish we had waited until the whole thing was done officially.”

“Surely even a brief time is better than no time?”

“Maybe I’d think that, too, Caesar,” says Peeta bitterly, “if it weren’t for the baby.”

It’s done. The metaphorical bomb has been dropped. And now everyone in Panem knows.

“Well, I didn’t want to say anything, but I have noticed Katniss looking a bit more…full…"

Caesar’s comment is what it takes for the news to finally sink in. There is yelling and cries of injustice and barbarianism and cruelty. Caesar can’t rein the crowd in and Peeta’s time is up. The anthem starts, but you can’t hear it over the audience.

Still, I stand. As I do, I sense Peeta reaching out for me. Tears run down his face as I take his hand. How real are they?

As we stand, hand-in-hand, so do the other victors. Everyone of us, joining hands.

The crowd sees us and complete chaos overtakes the place. It even reaches up to the stage with lights going out. We’re left to stumble back into the Training Center. Not once does Peeta let go of my hand, guiding me into an elevator. Finnick and Johanna try to join us, but a harried Peacekeeper blocks their way and we shoot upward alone.

We’re still holding hands and I’m not ready to let go. Tomorrow, I know I’m going to my death. Holding his hand provides just a fraction of comfort, but it’s better than nothing.

We wait for the others to return, but only Haymitch appears.

From the windows, we can see the chaos on the streets, people outside protesting. _Rioting_.

“Are they asking the president to stop the Games?” I ask.

Haymitch gets a funny look on his face. “I doubt Snow will cancel them.”

He tells us because of the crowds, Effie isn’t able to come up. We won’t get a goodbye with her. So we have to do our best and send them with Haymitch. Then we say our goodbyes to him. I quickly wipe at a tear and both Haymith and Peeta pretend not to have seen it.

We cross the room, but in the doorway, Haymitch’s voice stops us. “Katniss, starting tomorrow, question everything.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

But he scowls in response. “I said starting tomorrow.” Then he turns and walks out of the suite.

I don’t let Peeta leave my side, afraid that if he does, I won’t see him again until we’re in the arena. I don’t know if we sleep. We spend the night holding each other, in some halfway land between dreams and waking. Not talking. Both afraid to disturb the other in hope that we’ll be able to store up a few precious minutes of rest.

But when I feel the kicking, I grab Peeta’s hand and press it over my fluttering stomach. This might be his last chance to feel it.

Dawn comes.

And it goes.

I don’t want him to, but Peeta gets up. He doesn’t leave the room, but is standing by the window, staring at the morning sun.

They should’ve come for us already.

I’m scared to even hope that maybe Snow canceled the Games. Or at the very least postponed them.

According to the clock, it’s eleven in the morning when the door to my room finally opens.

Effie comes in, her eyes filled with tears.

I sit up. “What happened?”

She looks between me and Peeta. With her voice shaking, she says, “There was an accident…well, no, it wasn’t an accident…District Twelve…it’s all _gone_.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we are officially deviating from the books/movies (at least for a time)
> 
> Thanks to everyone for the lovely kudos and comments! Let me know what you think of this chapter!

I’m not awake.

That has to be the only explanation for Effie coming into the room and making a claim like that.

Peeta’s asking her questions and she comes in the room, sinking into the nearest chair and sobbing out answers and explanations.

None of the words either of them say are registering in my mind.

I’m not awake.

I’m not awake and none of this is happening.

This is just some nightmare I’m stuck in that I can’t wake up from.

I get up from the bed and go to the restroom.

I’m not awake.

I am _not_ awake.

I cup my hands under the faucet, drink some of the water, and then I splash some on my face.

_I’m not awake._

I turn around and stare at the closed bathroom door. I’m supposed to be waking up now. I’ll wake because either Peeta is shaking me awake or an Avox has come to take us away to the arena. But I am going to stay in this bathroom because I am going to wake up.

But I’m not _waking up_. And I can still hear Effie sobbing on the other side of the door.

I open the door.

And I don’t wake up.

Effie is still sitting in the chair, sobbing more than I’ve ever seen. My eyes move until they find Peeta. He’s slid to the ground, knees pulled up to his chest and his shoulders shaking with his own sobs.

This is a nightmare.

And it’s real.

Twelve is gone.

“H-how?” My voice cracks at the question. I don’t think it’s hit me yet. I can’t feel anything. I just feel numb.

But I do feel a light pressure. The baby’s kicking.

“There…there was an a-attack,” Effie manages to get out. “The arena…the rebels _destroyed_ it. And…and the dynamite it was…it w-was from Twelve. President Snow…it was an act of t-terrorism and…Twelve’s _gone_. Everything is _gone_.

I try to retain as much information. But I can only focus on one thing.

Twelve is gone.

Everyone that I fought so hard to protect. Just gone.

My mother. Gale. Prim.

All of them. _Gone_.

I shake my head. “No. No, I don’t…I don’t believe you,” I say.

And then I remember what Haymitch told me last night.

_Question everything._

“Where’s Haymitch?” I ask.

Effie cries harder, burying her face in her hands and shaking her head.

“Where’s Haymitch?” I repeat.

The baby gives a sharp kick. In the back of my mind, I wonder if it can feel past my numbness to all the dread and grief that's threatening to spill over.

Effie still shakes her head. She looks up at me, her eyes red and tears still streaming down her face.

She doesn’t have to say it.

Haymitch is dead too.

This is impossible.

I rush out into the living room and turn on the TV.

Fire, smoke, and destruction fill the screen. I have to sit in the couch before my knees can buckle under me.

 _“If you are just now joining us, we are showing_ live _footage of the former District Twelve where our Peacekeepers were ordered to bomb after rebels's bombed this year’s arena,”_ Caesar’s voice reports. _“The explosive devices used to destroy the arena was brought in from Twelve by former victor of District Twelve, Haymitch Abernathy. As Peacekeepers attempted to apprehend him, Mr. Abernathy was killed in a firefight between the peacekeepers and the rebels. Now as you can see, the bombing of District Twelve has essentially flattened the entire district. No word yet if there are any survivors, but as you can see from this live footage, it is very unlikely that anyone could have survived this.”_

_Question everything._

_“President Snow is currently preparing a statement addressing this horrid act of violence the rebels have done against the Capitol and the necessary punishment for their actions. As well, he will address what this years games will look like, especially without an arena. There’s speculation that he might cancel them completely, but one can never know. Stay tuned as updates on this unprecedented situation are coming in by the minute.”_

The screen abruptly switches to a commercial for a toothpaste that cures hangovers.

“Katniss?”

I look to see Peeta there. His eyes are red and it looks as if he's trying his best to control his breathing.

_Question everything._

“It’s not real,” I say.

He inhales sharply, looking down as another wave of tears overcomes him.

“It’s not real,” I repeat. “It can’t be. I mean…it doesn’t make any sense and…you _heard_ what Haymitch said last night! Question everything! That means none of this is real! Snow’s just…he’s trying to do something, but I don’t…it’s _not_ real!”

“Katniss, you saw the footage,” says Peeta. His voice is breaking, but he still walks towards me. “It’s all gone. _Everything_.”

I shake my head again. “No. No, it’s not. I don’t believe it!”

“Katniss…” He kneels in front of me and grabs my hands.

I push him away and get up.

Too quickly, because now the room is spinning. “It’s not real, Peeta! It _can’t_ be real.”

“Katniss, you need to breathe.”

I shake my head. And I keep shaking it. _Question everything._

Caesar’s voice comes back on and more footage of Twelve is being shown.

Peeta chokes on a sob as they show the bakery. The only thing left standing of it is the sign. The shot lingers much longer than necessary.

_Question everything._

I can’t take my eyes away from the destruction of my home. And the room is still spinning and spinning and I feel like I can’t breathe.

“Katniss?”

_Question everything._

_“As of right now, the peacekeepers have found no survivors.”_

_Question everything._

“Katniss!”

I feel my body falling as my eyes slide shut.

With my eyes closed, I see Prim. She’s smiling and happy and _safe_. And everything is good. There is no danger. She’s safe from everything.

I reach out to touch her, but then she fades into a cloud of smoke, billowing up and up into a dark sky. There’s fire everywhere and I can hear her screaming my names. But I can’t find her. I can’t find her and then I hear Haymitch laughing and telling me over and over to question everything.

“-ay, Katniss. You’re safe. It’s okay.”

I open my eyes and see Peeta hovering over me. I try pushing away from him, but there’s an IV in my arm. My hands go to pull it out, but Peeta stops me.

There’s a rapid beeping coming from somewhere and I’m trying to understand where I am, because we were in the penthouse of the Training Center and I can’t remember anything after…

Twelve is gone.

_Question everything._

My family is dead.

_Question everything._

Haymitch is dead.

_Question everything._

“Shh, Katniss. Please, just breathe. Breathe.”

Peeta is pressing his forehead against mine. I feel his tears mingling with mine as I try to focus on his breaths.

In. Out. In. Out.

_Question everything._

In. Out. In. Out.

“It’s gone,” I whisper.

Peeta just nods.

“What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know.”

I start moving on the bed, scooting closer to the edge and I pull Peeta with me.

“Katniss…there isn’t enough room for both of us,” he protests half-heartedly.

But I still pull him towards me and he doesn’t resist.

We’re curled up on our sides, my head resting on his chest and focusing on the steady beating of his heart and reminding myself that no matter what happens, at least I’m not alone. I wish I could move closer to him, but my pregnant stomach only allows me so much room.

I’m not sure how much times passes before the door opens and Effie walks in with a doctor I’ve never seen before.

He introduces himself as Dr. Pythian. The doctor President Snow personally choose to be my doctor.

Apparently, I fainted. Peeta was able to catch me before I hit my head on the coffee table, but he nor Effie could wake me up. I’ve been unconscious for a few hours, but everything is fine with the baby.

That’s not what I’m worried about though. Peeta must realize this because he squeezes my hand and whispers, “I’ve been here the entire time. They couldn’t have done anything.”

“I’d like for you to stay overnight, just for observation. Tomorrow morning, you can be released as long as everything is still fine,” says Dr. Pythian.

Where will I go after I’m released? What’s going to happen to me and Peeta now that we don’t have a home?

Another fact registers as well. I have to stay overnight. I quickly turn to Peeta. “Stay with me,” I plead. I don’t know how I’ll make it through the night without him.

I can hear Dr. Pythian begin to protest, talking about visiting hours and it’s unprecedented. Effie argues back, pulling him out of the room and their voices start rising as soon as the door closes behind them. I don’t focus on any of their words. I just hang on to the single word Peeta whispers.

“Always.”

I must fall asleep because the next time I open my eyes, the hospital room is dark. Peeta hasn’t moved from his spot next to me. He’s awake too, but he has a distant look in his eyes. They’re red and swollen, but he’s seemed to have stopped crying.

Or maybe he just ran out of tears.

I shift a little, wincing as I do. The movement makes it clear just how close my bladder is to exploding.

“You okay?” Peeta asks.

I shake my head. “I really have to go pee.”

He gets off the bed to help me up. I feel the tiniest hint of annoyance at how quickly he’s able to move, even with his prosthetic leg. Once I’m standing, I can move on my own though.

“I’ll be right back. Effie said she wanted to talk to us both once you woke up,” says Peeta.

It’s just for a few quick minutes, I tell myself. I’ll be fine. But as I’m in the restroom and I hear the door close behind him, I seem to forget how to breathe and the room is hot and I hear Prim screaming my name.

The door opens again and I hear two sets of footsteps come in. And I breathe a little easier. When I come back out, Effie is sitting down and Peeta moves from his spot next to her to help me back in the bed. Again, I pull him back up with me and he doesn’t bother protesting this time.

Effie is a little bit more composed now, but just like Peeta, her eyes are red and swollen. “You gave us quite the scare earlier,” she says, giving a poor attempt at a smile.

“What’s going to happen?” I ask instead. I want answers.

Effie blows out a sigh and blinks a few times to clear away new tears. “President Snow has announced that the Quarter Quell is canceled. He says that there was enough blood shed last night to remind everyone what will happen is there’s ever any attempt at another rebellion. All the tributes have already returned to their districts.”

Neither me nor Peeta say anything, but the question we both want to ask hangs in the air.

What about us?

Effie clears her throat before continuing. “The president is offering you both asylum, to live here in Capitol and to find the happiness that you both deserve.”

“No,” I say before I fully register what she’s telling me.

She clicks her tongue. “Katniss-“

“ _No_ ,” I say, feeling my body beginning to tremble. “I don’t _want_ to live here! I want to go back home!”

“I’m sorry, but there’s nothing for you to go back to.”

The footage is still so fresh in my mind, but there’s still a part of me that refuses to believe it.

_Question everything._

“I have to see it,” I say.

Effie and Peeta both stare at me.

“I have to go and see it for myself. I don’t want whatever footage they’re showing on the news. I _need_ to see it!”

“It’s impossible,” Effie says. “I’m truly sorry, Katniss.”

“Not even to see if there’s something left of…of our homes?” Peeta asks. He must be thinking of the bakery.

Effie shakes her head.

I want to argue more, but I’m just so tired. Peeta wraps his arms around me as if he knows exactly what I’m feeling.

“What about the memorial service?” he asks. “What do we need to do to get that ready?”

Effie purses her lips and looks down. “There will be no memorial service."

I feel his arms tighten around me. The words are stuck in my throat, but Peeta speaks again. “What?”

Effie seems to be struggling to speak. “Because of the involvement of the rebels, there will be no memorial service.”

“But our families-“

“You two can arrange for something in private, I’m sure, but that’s it.”

“Not even for Haymitch?” I whisper.

A few tears fall down Effie’s cheek as she shakes her head. She looks down and wrings her hands. “Not even for him.”

I close my eyes and desperately wish for all of this to just be a nightmare.

Almost everyone I’ve ever cared for is dead. But I cling to that word. _Almost_. Because Peeta is still here.

How much longer before Snow takes him away too?

The night passes slowly. Effie finally has to leave once visiting hours are over, but because of whatever deal she worked out with Dr. Pythian, Peeta stays with me. I’m not sure either of us sleep. And if we do, there is no rest in it. Sometimes, I hear quiet sniffling from Peeta and the only thing I do is hold his hand. But in the moments when the grief became too much for me, he pulls me as close as he possibly can and whisper soothing words.

Haymitch will always be right. I will never deserve Peeta. If the day comes when I prove him wrong, he’ll never know.

The next morning, Dr. Pythain comes in, carting in a large machine. He asks me to lift up my hospital gown to expose my stomach. Then he squirts a cool gel over it. With a rod that’s connected to the machine, he begins rubbing my stomach.

On the screen of the machine, I see a grainy black and white image. With every movement from Dr. Pythian, the image becomes just a little more clear, until I can finally make out the form.

“Ah, there she is,” Dr. Pythian says.

“It’s a girl?” Peeta says, his voice breathless.

Dr. Pythian nods. “And she seems to be doing just fine. If anything, she’s seems a little small, but that can be easily fixed with a few changes to your diet.”

He starts listing off instructions and I’m sure Peeta is listening to every word he says. I can’t focus on anything except the image that’s still on the screen.

That’s a baby girl. It’s inside of me. It’s part of me and Peeta.

It’s _real_.

The machine is turned off as Dr. Pythian gives some final instructions. Then Effie comes in, looking refreshed, despite the redness of her eyes. She gives us tinted glasses and a warning that there are people outside waiting for us, to give us their condolences, but also well-wishes and congratulations on being allowed to stay in the Capitol.

For the first time ever, Effie says, “Just keep your heads down and walk quickly to the car.”

Her warning is nothing compared to what actually awaits us outside.

It looks like _thousands_ of people, pressing against the line of peacekeepers. Shouting and waving their hands to get our attention.

Some of them are even throwing roses and I feel bile come up my throat.

With the help of Effie and the peacekeepers, we make it to the car and are taken to the Tribute Center, even if we’re technically no longer tributes.

None of this feels real.

Breakfast is already served on the table when we get up to the penthouse, but I go straight to my room. Peeta is following without me having to even ask.

We curl up in bed together, with only one phrase exchanged between us

“It’s a girl,” Peeta whispers, his fingers ghosting over my stomach.

An Avox brings in some of the breakfast for us. Later, she returns to take away the untouched plates and replace them with lunch and again, the same thing for dinner.

The next day, Peeta gets out of bed. He showers, changes, and brings a plate full of food to me and he makes me eat at least half of it.

“Remember what Dr. Pythian said,” he says.

Once we’re done, he leaves the room. I can faintly hear him talking to someone, but I don’t care enough to actually get up and see who’s here.

Because nothing really matters anymore. Everything I know is gone. I will forever be stuck in the Capitol, under Snow’s watchful eye.

He comes back after just a few moments and settles back into bed with me.

A few hours later, Effie comes in with lunch and a small bag.

“Here you go,” she says, handing the bag to Peeta. “Only the best materials for you.”

Peeta gives her a smile of thanks, setting the bag aside to serve another plate of food and making me eat half of it.

Effie looks better today, but I can see the strain in her eyes. She’s trying to keep it together.

For us.

And I realize Peeta isn’t the only one I have left. I have Effie too.

After a while of sitting in silence, Effie speaks up. “There’s a penthouse that’s just opened up in my neighborhood,” she starts. “I’ve spoken with the landlord and because of the situation, she’s agreed to allow you to live there free for a year. If you like it, you’ll be able to purchase it or at least lease it.”

I bury my head under the pillow. I don’t want to think about living here. I don’t want to think about anything.

“How would we pay for it?” Peeta asks.

“Well, you’d be expected to get jobs, obviously.” Her voice isn’t cruel, but I still flinch at her words. “Katniss, you could continue with your designs, working with Portia."

"Not Cinna?" Peeta asks the question that was already forming in my mind.

"He had to leave just after your final interviews actually. There was some kind of family emergency."

Effie might believe that, but I don't. Not for a minute. Not after what he did to my dress.

_Question everything._

Another name to add to the list of people I've lost in these short few days.

Effie continues, having no idea of my own thoughts. "And Peeta…well, I’m sure there’s something we could find for you.”

“I could bake,” he says.

“Oh, no, you’d never do that. Because of your new positions, any kind of work like that would be beneath you. No, you’d have to find something else.”

There’s a pause. Long enough that I poke my head out from under the pillow to look at them.

Peeta is staring at Effie with his head titled slightly in confusion. Effie is staring back as if what she just said was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Why?” I’m the one the ask.

“Because a baker is classified as part of the service industry,” says Effie. “No one in your position can ever work in something like that.”

“I would be making something for someone else. How is that any different than Katniss designing clothing?” Peeta asks with a new frustration in his voice.

“Being a designer is considered an _art_. Oh, that’s what you could do. Sell any art you make.”

Peeta quickly shakes his head. “No. No, I’d never do that. My paintings and drawings will never be put on sale for the pleasure of anyone here in the Capitol.”

This is the first time I’ve heard him sound so angry since the news.

Effie notices this as well and doesn’t press him any further. “Well, I’m sure something can be arranged then. President Snow might already have a position he would like you to take anyways.”

My heart clenches at the idea. Whatever position Snow might have for Peeta would be infinitely worse than anything else.

Peeta knows this too, because he’s reaching out to grab my hand. Not to comfort me, but to ground himself.

“So, what do you think?” Effie says after a few moments. “Would you like to see the penthouse?"

Peeta looks at me and I just shrug. What other choice do we have?

He agrees for both of us and Effie schedules a viewing for tomorrow.

I still don’t get out of bed the whole day. Peeta is a bit more active than I am, but he hardly leaves the room. After Effie leaves, he pulls out what she brought him.

Pencils and a sketch pad.

He sits up on the bed and I watch as he draws the outline of a face. And he stops, staring at the simple circle with the guidelines for the facial features. The pencil snaps in his fist and he lets out a trembling gasp.

I reach up to take the broken pencil and the sketchpad away and pull him until he’s laying down again. He curls up and his body begins shaking with sobs. I don’t know what to do, how to make the pain go away because my own heart is full of it too.

So I just hold his hand until his breathing evens out and he’s sleeping.

The next day, Peeta has to physically pull me out of bed. He makes me shower and change into clean clothes.

Effie picks us up after breakfast. We see more of the Capitol than we ever have. This is where we live now though. We need to start getting used to these streets and navigating them ourselves.

The penthouse is on the fortieth floor. It’s the highest building in the neighborhood and a coveted place to live in.

Especially if the victors of the former District Twelve move in.

The landlady introduces herself, but I immediately forget her name with what she says after introducing herself.

“Oh, you poor dears. But look at it is as a blessing in disguise. Now you’ll be able to have this baby and get married and live happily ever after in the best place in all of Panem!”

Peeta has to place his hand on my back and gently push me forward and away from her.

Her and Effie follow us at a small distance, telling us of all the different features. It has five bedrooms. “A room could be used as a workstation for your designs, Katniss, a nursery for the baby, two guest rooms, and the master bedroom. And of course, I’m sure you’ll be planning on expanding your family even more so one the guest rooms can easily be converted into another child’s room. Or both! I know the families in Twelve seemed to reproduce like rabbits! There wasn’t much else for them to do, was there?”

Peeta squeezes my hand and it's the only thing keeping me from clawing her eyes out. I want this woman to stop following us and to _stop talking_.

“Do these windows open?” I ask when we get to the master bedroom.

The woman laughs. “Oh goodness no. Why would you want to have these windows open?”

I look over at Peeta and he just shrugs.

The kitchen is even bigger than the houses in the Victor’s Village back at Twelve. Peeta takes his time looking at all the counter space and the double oven. I can see he’s trying to imagine waking up with the sun and baking his breads and cookies and cakes here. Building a new life in the Capitol.

I don’t think he can because he doesn’t look at all excited in the kitchen.

The living room and dining room is one big open space and there’s a small balcony. She tells us that it’s one of the best places in the Capitol to see fireworks from the Presidential Palace.

Then she takes the lead, guiding us to the very back of the penthouse. “There’s also a very special addition. A panic room that includes enough storage for food and water to last a year and enough space for comfortable furniture and entertainment items."

“Why would we need something like this?” Peeta asks, frowning at the decadence that’s hidden behind the secret latch of the back wall.

The woman laughs. “To protect yourself from any attacks from the rebels. These last few days have only proven how reckless and destructive they can be.”

I’m suffocating in the room. I push past her and I know I have to get out of there. Peeta is right behind me, grabbing my hand, but not to pull me back or slow down.

Because he needs to get out of there too.

I vaguely hear Effie hurrying after us, calling over her shoulder that we’ll think over the decision and get back to her as soon as possible.

The next few minutes is a blur, but I know that somehow we end up back in Effie’s car and I’m pressing my face into Peeta’s chest, trying to stifle my cries.

Effie comes up with us to the Tribute Center, but only to make sure we get to the penthouse fine. “I know this is all moving very fast,” she says. “But you’re going to have to decide by tomorrow whether or not you’ll take that place. The Tribute Center can not stay open very long for just the two of you.”

Peeta responds, “We’ll talk it over. Thank you, Effie.”

Then she’s pulling me into a hug. “I know this is difficult, but things will get better one day, Katniss. I know they will.”

But how can she say that? When she herself doesn’t truly understand the horrors of the Capitol and the things Snow does to keep control of all the districts.

It’s not until after the sun has gone down that we finally talk about it.

“It’s too cold,” I say, playing with a loose thread on the blanket. “It’ll never feel like home.”

Peeta lets out a heavy sigh while staring up at the ceiling. “Katniss, so long as I’m with you, any place will feel like home to me.”

I close my eyes and try to imagine us living there, two children with blonde hair and Seam gray eyes running around, laughing.

But I can’t. The Capitol is no place for Peeta’s children to grow up in.

I roll on to my back. “Okay,” I whisper.

And as soon as I whisper it, I feel his hand on my shoulder, rolling me back on to my side, now facing him. “Dr. Pythian says it’s bad for the baby to sleep on your back.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and try to push away the tears.

This was not supposed to happen this way.

Peeta calls Effie first thing the next morning to give her the news. She’s overjoyed and says she’ll help us with purchasing the best furniture and is almost certain some interior designers would actually be honored to help us with decorating.

I think we have more time in the Training Center. But when Peeta hangs up he says we’re moving in tomorrow.

It’s so soon. Barely a week has passed since we’ve lost everything and now tomorrow, we’ll be starting our new lives as Capitol citizens, the last living remnants of Twelve.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting early because I am not going to be able to do it Sunday! And thinking about, I might actually switch to posting on Friday's instead...
> 
> Thank you to everyone for the kudos/comments!

Peeta and I don’t have to do anything except tell people what we do or don’t like. Peeta flips through the furniture catalogs that Effie brings. Our eyes immediately find the prices and I feel my heart drop at the number. The cheapest item is a small coffee table, which is the same amount of money that a coal miner would make in five years.

Effie tells us not to worry about prices. Everyone in the Capitol is eager to help their newest citizens transition to their new living arrangements. And since the Quarter Quell is canceled, any money that would’ve been used on bets or gifts for the tributes is being redirected to us.

“This is too much,” Peeta says, pushing the catalog away.

Effie comes back with more catalogs, this time with the prices marked out in black ink.

I don’t say anything as Peeta flips through the pages. If I can’t even imagine a life here, how can I pick out furniture for this penthouse we’ll be living in for the foreseeable future?

Peeta can’t make any decisions either. Effie ends up picking out everything, basing her decisions on the small nods of approval from Peeta or my nose scrunching up at a particularly ugly piece of furniture.

One of the only things that Peeta is actually vocal about is the wallpaper in the nursery. He picks out one that has a white background full of flowers that are purple and red and pink and soft orange.

“Is this okay?” he asks me.

For a moment, I consider telling him he could paint something much better. But I remember how he couldn’t even draw whatever face he was thinking of when Effie brought him the sketch book.

Then I look at the flowers more closely and my breath hitches. “They’re primroses,” I whisper.

“We can pick something else…”

I quickly shake my head. “No, I…I like it.”

Almost all the furniture is moved in by the next day. The movers ask where we want everything, but Peeta just tells them to put the furniture in the middle of whatever room it’s going in.

“It’s going to take us a while to figure out how we want everything arranged,” he tells them.

But I know it’s because he’s uncomfortable with sitting back and letting them do all the work.

The wallpaper and paint goes up while the furniture is still in the middle of the room. I’m glad Peeta made the decisions on the colors. His painter’s eye allowed an atmosphere that feels bright and colorful without giving the gaudy impression that screams Capitol.

By the time the sun is setting and lights up the living room and kitchen, everyone is gone. It's only me and Peeta in this huge penthouse that is full of furniture and unwrapped decorations from people who think it will be so easy for us to call this place home.

Neither of us sleep that night, our first official night living in the penthouse. I can't find a comfortable position in the bed and every time I do, Peeta nudges me and says the way I'm laying is bad for the baby. He's sits with a few pillows propping up his back and his legs drawn up to provide a semi-flat surface to balance his sketch book. The pages fill with outlines of faces, but he never gets further than drawing the oval and guidelines. He breaks ten different pencils before I finally take them away from him and make him lie down.

Aside from our breathing, the room is silent now without the sound of Peeta's pencils scratching over the paper. We don't cry. It’s been two weeks and I think our tears have finally dried up.

The curtains aren't up yet in the room, allowing the first rays of the morning sun to shine through the window. Peeta gets up as soon as the room fills with enough light. I don't try to pull him back into bed, instead moving over into the warmth he's left behind. A few minutes after he leaves the room and I hear him starting to move furniture around. I get up a few hours later, thinking he might have one room finished. But in the rest of the rooms, the furniture is still in the middle of the area. I find him in the living room, standing in the middle and glaring at the furniture he’s moved around.

I refrain from commenting on the terrible setup after seeing the frustration on his face. Instead, I sit on the couch, wincing a little as I feel the baby give a particularly hard kick. “I think the end table should go on the other side of the room,” I say after a few moments.

He moves the end table to the spot I indicated, picking it up with ease. And his glare goes away as he continues moving the furniture around into something that actually feels like it can be comfortable.

Almost like a home.

Before he can start on the next room, there’s a knock on the door.

It’s Effie and behind her is an Avox girl carrying several bags.

“I’ve brought groceries and another gift from one of your many fans who want to make your transition easier,” says Effie.

I wait for her to pull out whatever bag or box this gift is in.

But she grabs the Avox by her shoulders once she’s set down all of the groceries. “Your very own Avox!”

I’m going to be sick.

Peeta shakes his head. “Um, I think we’re good. We don’t need an Avox.”

Effie clicks her tongue. “Nonsense. You are now Capitol citizens _and_ famous ones too. Of course you’ll need an Avox.”

It seems like Effie's grieving is over.

Effie sits down on one of the stools in the kitchen. “No one expects you to immediately accept all of these new changes to your lives. But, you will at some point have to accept them. President Snow chose to allow you two to live here in safety instead of sending you out in exile.”

“I would’ve preferred exile,” I grumble. Maybe that would've been the only way for us to go back to Twelve.

“Katniss!" Effie’s voice is sharp with a reprimand, but then she looks at me, then to my stomach. Then she closes her eyes and sighs. “I know this is still difficult. But try and look at the bright side. The Capitol is a glamorous city if you would just allow yourself to enjoy it.”

Except it’s glamorous at the expense of the districts. There’s no way Peeta and I could ever enjoy it.

The Avox starts preparing a meal and serves us plates while Effie explains how everyday tasks work here in the Capitol. Like grocery shopping and paying bills and where to buy new clothes and art supplies. By the time we’re done eating, Effie is finally done explaining everything she thinks we need to know.

“And I am close by and if you ever have any questions or doubts, I am always available.”

I think she adds that because she can see exactly how overwhelmed I'm feeling now.

“What are you going to be doing now that…well, after everything…?” Peeta asks.

Effie looks down at her empty plate. “I’ve actually been offered the position of escort for the tributes from District One.

A coveted position.

But the way Effie says it gives the impression that she didn’t accept.

“Are you going to take it?” I ask.

She sighs. “I don’t know. I don’t think I can really.” She looks up and gives us both a sad smile. “You two will always be my favorites and…it just won’t be the same without Haymitch.”

A tear slips down her cheek. She is still grieving. She’s just much better at hiding it under the mask that every person in the Capitol wears.

She quickly clears her throat and brushes it away. “Well, that’s enough of that,” she says with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “I should be going. I am still working on finding you a suitable job, Peeta. Don’t you worry.”

And with that, she leaves the penthouse.

The Avox stays, beginning to clean up the mess in the kitchen. And she takes the pan from the stove that still has food and carries it to the trashcan.

“Wait,” I say. “That food is still good. Don’t throw it away.”

She hesitates, not looking at us, before taking the pan back to the stove. She serves another plate and places it on top of my empty one.

I shake my head. “No, I’m not hungry.”

Then she moves the plate to Peeta.

Peeta grabs it and sets it across from him. “You didn’t eat. Go ahead.”

For the first time since entering the penthouse, she looks up at us. Then she shakes her head and takes a step back.

Peeta runs a hand through his hair. “Look, we don’t know what to do with you and…we’re from Twelve. We aren’t used to this kind of stuff and we aren’t going to let the Capitol change us. So please, eat.”

She doesn’t move though, and I don’t think she will the longer we stay there.

I get up and grab Peeta’s hand. “Let’s get started on one of the guest rooms,” I say.

The bed is the first thing he moves, pushing it up against the furthest wall. Once it's in place, I lay down on it while he decides on where to put the couch and dresser.

While he’s standing in the middle of the room, trying to envision whatever floor plan he has, I can hear the soft clink of a fork against a plate. The Avox is finally eating.

I don’t move from the bed to check though. I stay put, watching Peeta move the furniture around and throwing in a few suggestions when his hands fold over his chest and he glares at the furniture.

Sometimes, I forget how strong he is after all those years of lifting bags of flour. He moves the furniture around easily, the muscles in his arms straining against the fabric of his shirt.

“Like what you see?”

I blink and for a moment I'm positive he’s caught me staring.

But he extends his arms out, gesturing to the way he’s arranged the furniture.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” I mumble.

He moves on to start in the nursery.

I don’t follow him in there. I go back to the master bedroom.

He takes longer in there, but once he’s done, I hear him in the kitchen, talking to the Avox.

After a while, he comes back to the room, carrying a plate of food. “Putting together that crib was harder than I thought,” he says, helping me sit up and resting the plate of food on my stomach.

It’s big enough it can stay balanced on my stomach.

I stare at it, unable to believe how big I am now. And I still have a little more than a month to go.

“Do you want to see it?” he asks, sitting down beside me and picking off of my plate.

I shake my head. I’m not ready to think of life after the baby’s born.

We sit there quietly, watching the sun set over the Capitol skyline. And not for the first, I wonder how we’ll ever be able to move forward.

Once it’s dark, Peeta gets up to take the plate back to the kitchen. I hear him talking again with the Avox, then the front door opening and closing.

He comes back in with the sketchpad. He hands it to me and with the city night lights coming in, I can make out a name.

“Her name’s Delia,” Peeta says.

And he sounds smug. Because no Capitolite should know the name of the Avox working in their home.

That’s what we are now, aren't we? Capitolites.

Peeta uses this as one of the small ways he refuses to conform to the Capitol.

The gesture makes me smile just a little

Another week passes with the days blurring together into what feels like a dream.

Peeta stays active. It’s his way of coping. In the morning, he bakes and somehow manages to have small conversations with Delia through his sketchpad. He rearranges things, organizes the clothes and other items we've received, asking my thoughts on where a certain decoration should go. But when he opens the sketchpad to draw, he can never actually finish whatever image he has in his mind.

I spend the days either in bed, or sprawled out on the living room couch, depending on where Peeta is. One afternoon we turned on the TV but shut it off after just a few minutes.

It was during Caesar’s regularly scheduled talk show. He was smiling and laughing and speculating with his guest of the hour about the ‘Mellark wedding.’

Effie came by during that time and said she wanted to have a little party for us.

“No,” I say before she could explain more.

She rolls her eyes. “Oh Katniss, let me finish.”

“I kind of agree actually,” Peeta says. “It doesn’t feel right to have a party.”

Because we still haven’t had a memorial service for the family we lost. And they'll never have one that they actually deserve.

“Fine. Perhaps, I shouldn’t use the word ‘party’ to describe it then. What about just a simple lunch with some friends. Portia and both of your former prep teams. Think of it as a housewarming party. Or get together, whatever term you’d prefer.”

“And it would only be them?” Peeta asks.

“Yes. Only them. And me of course since I’m organizing it.”

Peeta looks to me, as if asking for my permission. Begrudgingly, I give a small nod, which leads to Effie clapping. “Wonderful! It’ll be a fun time and a way to distract you both. And Katniss, please. At least shower the day before.”

I glare at her and make no promises.

But I know Peeta will most likely convince me to clean myself up.

“Oh, and before I go, Dr. Pythian would like to start seeing you weekly, Katniss. With your due date being so close, he would just like to make sure you and the baby are healthy and ready for delivery.”

The day before my first appointment is when we have the ‘get together.’ The prep teams embrace us and they are crying and smiling and rubbing my stomach.

“It’s just so sad, thinking about all of your family just gone like that in an instant. And especially your precious sister, Prim.”

“At least you didn’t have to go into the arena again.”

“Have you decided on any baby names?”

“The wedding is just going to be amazing! I’m sure it’ll be one the best parties of the year!”

“But you know, the Capitol is the best place to raise your children, because I’m sure you’re planning on having many more kids!”

Then Portia pulls me away to look at the room for my workshop. The workshop is the only room that’s still empty. Even the panic room has some basic furniture. I don’t know the first thing about designing clothes, so I didn’t even know what I would need.

Portia clasps her hands behind her back, walking slowly around the open room. “It’s definitely big enough.” She turns and faces me. “Once the baby is born, I’ll start showing you the basics and get some equipment for you.”

I bite my lip though, feeling my eyes filling with tears.

This is my life. I'm about to have a baby. I'm living in the Capitol. I'm going to become a designer for people who's closets are bursting with clothes.

Portia doesn't seem to notice at all, going on and on about the potential of the space and how excited she is to help me start out and promising to show me the best places to find fabric and I'll just love the fabric supplier Cinna used.

When we come back out, I move to Peeta's side and I have to grab his hand to ground me in this moment.

He doesn't let go of my hand for the rest of the afternoon and once everyone is gone, he pulls me into the room and holds me while I cry.

I don't want this new life. I just want to go back _home_.

_Question everything._

I force that thought out of my head. What good is that going to do me? I wish Haymitch was still alive so I could scream at him to choose better final words. Something that might actually help us.

Peeta comes with me to my appointment the next day. Effie takes us, but says it would be a good idea to either hire an Avox driver or for us to learn how to drive.

I make a note to tell Peeta later that I do not want to ever drive.

Dr. Pythian says that aside from the baby still looking a little too small in his opinion, everything is good.

He also tells me that I should expect labor to start within a month.

When we get back to the penthouse, Peeta asks again if I want to go into the nursery.

I shake my head and climb into bed.

Hours blend into days, blend into weeks.

As the delivery date that Dr. Pythian gave us grows closer, Peeta is constantly asking if I’m okay, if there’s anything he can get me, if he can make me anymore comfortable.

But the things I want, he can’t give me.

I want to go home. I want to hug Prim. I want to go hunting. I want some of Greasy Sae’s stew. I want to not be pregnant because this was never something I wanted for my life.

My water breaks as I’m moving from the living room to the kitchen where Peeta’s making muffins and Delia is right behind him, cleaning up the mess.

It’s almost as if a balloon of water drops from between my legs.

Peeta turns around, thinking I spilled a glass of water.

But then his eyes go wide as he realizes what actually just happened.

The discomfort I had been feeling since yesterday is now actually painful and I inhale sharply as I feel a contraction.

“Okay. Okay. This is happening,” Peeta says, a hint of panic in his voice. “Um, count how long between the contractions and I’ll call Effie.”

Delia hurries to my side while Peeta makes the call. She grabs my hand and guides me to a chair in the dining room. She doesn’t let go of me, making a show of breathing deeply. I try to match my breaths to hers until finally the pain subsides. I start counting, already anticipating the next contraction.

Peeta comes running back to me. “Effie said she’s on her way. It’s going be fine Katniss. This is almost over.”

“No, it’s not,” I whisper, feeling tears fill my eyes. “This is never going to be over.”

I’m not talking about the pregnancy. We got off the train, but at the wrong stop and now we're stuck with no way back home.

Peeta cups my face. “I know,” he whispers back. “But at least we have each other and in a few hours, we’ll have a baby girl too.”

Except I never wanted this baby.

Effie finally comes and she’s on the verge of hysteria. To the point where she couldn’t drive. She sat in the back with me and I was the one trying to calm her while Peeta drove with Delia in the front with him, pointing out the directions.

Peeta’s driving is terrible, but somehow, we make it safely to the hospital as another contraction hits. He and Delia help me inside where a group of nurses immediately rush to us and sit me down in a wheelchair.

I refuse to let go of Peeta’s hand as they wheel me to the delivery wing of the hospital.

The contraction passes once I'm in the room.

The nurses work around me, settling me into the bed, sticking an IV in my arm, asking me questions about the contractions and pain and did my water break yet.

When they were satisfied with the answers, they left, saying Dr. Pythian was already on his way.

Right after the nurses left, I reached out and grabbed Peeta’s hand again. “No matter what happens, you can’t leave. You have to stay with me.” Because I could remember multiple times when my mother was acting as a midwife and had to ask the father to leave because something had gone either very wrong or he was panicking. I can't do this without him by my side.

Peeta smiles at me and brushes back some of my hair that's fallen out of my braid. “Always. I will always stay with you, Katniss.” He grabs my hand and squeezes.

Dr. Pythian came in, smiling bright and asking if we were excited to meet our baby.

Peeta smiles and answers for the both of us. “Yes. Of course we are.”

He places my feet in these stirrups where he could examine clearly what was going on. I kept my eyes closed and wish I could at least have a female doctor.

“Well, you are close, but you still have some time to go,” Dr. Pythian said as he lowered the sheet and straightened out my legs.

“Is there anything she can take for the pain?”

Dr. Pythian purses his lips. “At the request of President Snow, I am not allowed to administer any kind of pain relievers.”

I could feel another contraction coming and knew they were only going to get worse.

“What do you mean? She’s in pain. You have to give her something!” Peeta exclaims, getting up, but still holding my hand.

He holds up his hands “It is the order of the President. There is nothing I can do.”

I clench my eyes at the pain, gripping Peeta’s hand tighter as Dr. Pythian leaves the room.

I’m not surprised at the order. Snow just wants to make sure my life is still as miserable as possible.

“I can handle it,” I say once the contraction passes. “The women back home did it. So can I.”

“You shouldn’t have to.”

“Maybe Snow’s hoping I might die during childbirth.”

_“No_ ,” Peeta says forcefully, his voice shaking a little. “You are _not_ going to die. I won’t let that happen.”

I look at him and I see fear in those eyes.

I’m an idiot. After he’s lost all of his family too and I say something like that.

I realize that just like I can’t survive without him, he wouldn’t be able to survive without me.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’ll try not to die.”

Peeta actually smiles, his eyes shining with tears. “That would really mean a lot to me,” he says before pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

The next time a nurse came in, Peeta asks where Effie is. She tells us that she’s in the waiting room and will be allowed in after the baby’s born.

Peeta looks as if he’s debating on whether or not to go see her and give her a quick update, but I squeeze his hand softly. I’m afraid if he does leave, he might not be allowed back in.

It feels like we’re in there for days, the pain increasing and becoming more frequent until Dr. Pythian finally says, “It’s time to start pushing.”

I push and the pain is hot and white and a yell is ripped from my throat.

Peeta is coaxing me, telling me what a good job I’m doing and that she’s almost here. Just a few more pushes.

I try to focus on his voice, but it’s so hard and the pain is so much.

And then I feel as if I can breathe and wailing fills the air.

It’s the baby.

I’m trying to catch my breath and still feeling some of the pain when my arms automatically open when Dr. Pythian places her in my arms.

She’s still screaming, her entire body red as her little fists are stretching out and feet are kicking. There’s tufts of blonde curls on her head and her nose tilts up a tiny bit that reminds me so much of Prim’s nose.

“Oh, Katniss,” Peeta breathes out. “She’s going to be a fighter. Just like you.”

Except I don’t want her to be like me. I would much rather she be like Peeta. Then she might have a chance to make it in this new world.

I maneuver my arms a little until I’m switching her over to Peeta’s arms. I watch as he cradles her, his face lighting up with a bright smile I haven’t seen in so long. It’s already obvious that he loves this baby that was created without our consent. He loves her because she’s both of us combined.

Which only makes me feel guilty for the dread growing in my heart the longer I look at her.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you lovelies enjoy this chapter!!

I stay in the hospital overnight. Not once does Peeta leave my side. Effie and Portia visit us as soon as Dr. Pythian allows visitors. They immediately fall in love with the baby.

Making my own numb feelings toward her even more pronounced.

Dr. Pythian says he can't discharge me and the baby from the hospital until after we give the baby a name.

Peeta is coming up with dozens of names. With every name, I try and imagine myself calling her this for the rest of her life.

_"Betty, it's time for breakfast!"_

_"Harriet, make your bed."_

_"Mabel, where's your reaping dress?"_

But we live in the Capitol. Her name will never be placed in a reaping bowl.

Or would Snow somehow figure out a way to throw her into the arena as soon as she's of age?

_No._ I refuse to ever let that happen to her. I'd take her far away from here, risking my own life again before that could ever happen.

She needs a name that will let Snow know that I will not let him harm her or allow her to become a pawn in these games.

"What about Lucy?"

Peeta tilts his head a little, looking down into the hospital's plastic bassinet where she's sleeping. "Lucy..." he repeats. His brows furrow a little. "Where have I heard that name before?"

"She's the first victor from Twelve."

He looks at me and purses his lips. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" he whispers.

"She'll never be a part of his games," I say. "He has to know that."

Peeta looks uncomfortable. But he looks at her and he sees what I do. That the name is perfect for her. "Okay, but she needs another name because I don't think the people here are going to want to call her Lucy."

I can't think of anything else though.

“What about Erryn?” Peeta says after a few moments of silence. "A family name for her."

Erryn. For my father, Aaron Everdeen.  
  
And the thought slams into me that she will never know any of her grandparents. 

“Okay,” I say, still trying to push down the thought of my own parents and Twelve's destruction.

Peeta smiles, completely unaware of the dark thoughts filling my mind. He looks back to the baby. "Hi there Lucy Erryn."

In my head, I imagine Peeta walking through the front door of the penthouse, calling out, _"Lucy Erryn, I'm home!"_

A child leaps into his arms, her blonde curls braided into pigtails. The back of her shirt is untucked a little, making it look like a duck's tail. The two are laughing and smiling.

I don't know where I am in that moment. Maybe I'm busy in the kitchen. Maybe I'm dead.  
  
She begins fussing a little and Peeta picks her up. She calms immediately and I stare at the wonder on his face. I have to turn away and close my eyes, 

When we leave the hospital the next afternoon, there is another huge crowd waiting for us outside. But this time, it seems as if there’s more cameras.

I keep Lucy pressed closely to me. I don’t want them to see her. It'll only be a matter of time before her face is plastered over all their magazines the TV screens, but right now I want to prevent it for as long as possible.

When we get to the penthouse, the first room we go in is the nursery. The afternoon sun is shining in brightly, reflecting off of the windows of the other tall buildings of the city. It lights up the colors and making the orange of the wallpaper feel as if it's a soft blanket around my shoulders. The different colored primroses seem to move with the reflected light and it makes me think of Prim, dancing with her in our small kitchen before our worlds turned to ash.

Then I see her again, here in the kitchen of the penthouse, teaching Lucy Erryn the dances of Twelve. She would've been a great aunt.

The thought makes me want to curl into a ball and never look down at that small face with Prim's nose. I end up placing Lucy Erryn in Peeta's willing arms as I make an excuse and hide in the bathroom for almost half an hour.

The first night back at the penthouse, nobody sleeps. Lucy Erryn cries almost the whole night. At the hospital, she had no trouble latching on to nurse, but now it takes her so long to latch on again. And even when she does, she suckles for just a few moment, before pushing away to scream.

Peeta changes her diaper. I continuously try to feed and burp her. Peeta walks the entire penthouse to rock her to sleep, his limp becoming worse and worse every hour.

Still, Lucy Erryn cries.

Halfway through the night, I get up to use the restroom, but I don't make it. And I'm humiliated, but there's so blood mixed in and it's _too_ much blood.

Peeta has me sit in the tub and hold Lucy Erryn while he calls Dr. Pythian.

Am I dying? Is something wrong with Lucy Erryn? How am I supposed to be a mother to her when I can't even hold her without drowning in memories and not wanting to exist? How can I ever give this child, with Peeta's blonde curls and Prim's nose, the love that she deserves?  
  
Because I know how much love she deserves, but I have no idea if I'm capable of giving that to her. 

When Peeta comes back, Lucy Erryn's still crying and I've started crying to.

“I just want her to stop,” I wail. “Why won’t she stop crying?”

Peeta doesn't have an answer for that, but he does tell me that apparently the bleeding is normal. Dr. Pythian says it's just my body going back to normal and that the bleeding should stop after two weeks.

He takes Lucy Erryn from me and lets me take a quick bath. I consider staying in there and maybe getting some sleep. Submerging myself under the water until I can't hear her anymore. Until I can't hear _anything._

But Lucy Erryn’s screams are too loud and Peeta pleads with her to just go to sleep already.

I come out after a few minutes, freshly changed and I take Lucy Erryn to attempt to nurse her again.

The sun rises and we are exhausted, but Lucy Erryn seems to have finally fallen asleep in Peeta’s arms. We’re both on the couch in the living room and we’re too tired to move and actually fall asleep, despite the sunlight beginning to stream in through the windows. A few hours later though, the door opens and Delia comes in.

I wince as she closes the door, thinking it might wake Lucy Erryn up. But she doesn’t stir. Peeta does though and his slight movement is what wakes her.

“No, Lucy Erryn. Stay asleep, please,” Peeta moans.

I reach over and take her, trying to nurse her again.

She seems to eat, but after a few minutes, she’s pushing away and screaming.

Delia approaches and makes a motion for us to give her Lucy Erryn.

I don't hesitate for a second.

We don’t get up as she takes her to the nursery. As I'm wondering how long Delia will last holding the crying baby, the penthouse falls silent.

Moments later, she comes back towards us without Lucy Erryn.

“What did you do?” Peeta asks, wild disbelief in his eyes.

She grabs the notepad and pen we keep out for her. _I swaddled her. Babies like to be swaddled._

We don’t ask how she knows this. It’s a piece of her past that we’ll never know. But we are happy she does know what to do with a baby. Peeta pulls me up and we go to the room and collapse onto the bed, dead asleep.

It takes us a month to settle into a routine. We still don’t get much sleep, but even before she was born, it was rare we slept through the night because of our nightmares.  
  
Now we wake up because of nightmares and Lucy Erryn's screams.

We get all kinds of requests and people trying to invite themselves over to see our baby. The only people we let in though are Effie, Portia, and our prep teams. I see how much they adore her and Peeta is almost always smiling when she’s in his arms or he's just laid her down or he's talking about her or even thinking about her.

I can’t remember the last time I’ve smiled. When she’s in my arms, I’m always so willing to let someone else take her from me. And I still feel so numb.

I’m sure Peeta notices, but he doesn’t pressure me to talk or to change. I catch him sometimes, holding Lucy Erryn when he's sitting in the rocking chair in the nursery or outside on the balcony. He looks at me with sad, but understanding eyes.

When Lucy Erryn is officially a month old, we receive a new visitor. One we can't refuse.

President Snow.

My heart stops when Delia opens the door for him. I’m burping Lucy Erryn when he comes in and my grip on her tightens.

Peeta’s taking off his apron and wiping the flour from his hands. “President Snow,” he says, somehow managing to keep his voice even. “We weren’t expecting you.”

“Oh, I know. I was in the neighborhood and wanted to stop by and check on the Capitol’s newest citizen,” Snow says, walking in and sitting down at our dining table. The two peacekeepers that came with him come in as well, but the stay at the entrance, closing the door behind them.

I want to take Lucy Erryn and lock her away in the panic room, away from this man and the hurt and pain that follows him everywhere.

“Would you like something to drink?” Peeta tries to offer.

“That won’t be necessary.” He leans back in the chair, looking as if he owns the place. “Come to think of it, I actually haven’t seen either of you since the tragic events of the Quarter Quell. I hope you two are adjusting well.”

“Everyone has been very generous and welcoming,” Peeta says. It sounds as if he’s reading off of a cue card. “We are grateful for the Capitol being there for us in our time of need.”

Snow begins laughing. “And that is exactly why I’ve chosen this position for you, Mr. Mellark.”

I look at Peeta and see how tense he’s become.

“Caesar Flickerman is in need of a new co-host. When I heard he was looking, I immediately knew you would be perfect for the job. You’ll start training for your new position next month, allowing you more time to be at home with your new family.”

Peeta’s knuckles are white as he’s holding the countertop. “I’m honored,” he says. “Thank you for considering me.”  
  
I know what he's thinking. His face will always be on the screens now. We will forever be in the public eye of the Capitol. There will be no shrinking into the shadows after a few years of living here.

But even if he doesn't want the job, there's no way he can refuse.

Snow smiles, but it looks more like a sneer.

“Well, I didn’t come all the way here just to tell you the news. I wanted to see your baby. Lucy Erryn." He drags the name out. I catch the deadly look in his eyes. He knows exactly why we picked it. "An interesting name. It's a mouthful, I'll admit. I'm sure everyone here would much rather call her Erryn instead," he says instead of calling us out on the meaning.

My grip on Lucy Erryn tightens even more. "Feel free to call her whatever you want. But her name is Lucy Erryn and that's what Peeta and I will always call her." I try to keep my teeth unclenched as I speak, but from the look Peeta shoots me, I know I'm unsuccessful.

Snow doesn't respond to my comment. Instead, he says, "I’m a little confused as to what her last name is. I know you had that quaint little ceremony between the two of you back at Twelve, but that’s not bound by law. So is it Everdeen or Mellark?”

“Mellark,” I quickly answer. It's what we put on her birth certificate. It's what was expected of us.

“Ah, good.” Snow looks at me, then with his hand gestures for me. “Let me hold her.”

My grip on her tightens to the point she actually lets out a small whimper. “I just fed her,” I say. “I wouldn’t want her to spit up all over you.” Even though that would be a nice sight. But I refuse to let him hold her.

“Come now, Ms. Everdeen. I have had children of my own and grandchildren. In fact, I’ve just had a new granddaughter added to my family a few months ago. I’m quite capable of dealing with a little spit up.”

I can’t move. I _won’t_ move.

“I won’t ask again,” Snow says, his voice low with a threat.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the peacekeepers tightening the hold on their guns. I look at Peeta and his eyes are pleading with me. But I can’t tell if it’s because he doesn’t want me to move or he wants me to listen to Snow.

I don’t know what Snow might do if I refuse him. So I finally move and allow Snow to take Lucy Erryn from my arms.

It's the first time I'm reluctant to let someone else hold her.

She fusses a little, but settles fine in his arms after a few moments.

The blood is rushing in my ears. I try to steady my breathing as I watch Snow smiling down at Lucy Erryn. I'm practically hovering over Snow waiting for him to make one wrong move before hitting him and taking Lucy Erryn back. I don't care what the peacekeepers might do if this happens. I only see Lucy Erryn wrapped up in the coil of a snake.  
  
And there is nothing I can do about it.

“Oh, she is beautiful," Snow says. "A happy surprise for everyone, wouldn’t you agree?”

My tongue feels like sandpaper. I can only manage a nod.

“You forget how fragile life is until you're holding a child as small as this. So pure. So innocent.”

I fight back images of Snow snapping Lucy Erryn in half.

“Now Ms. Everdeen, when do you plan on changing your own last name? I hope you’ve picked up plans for the wedding again?”

I shake my head. “We haven’t even thought about it.”

Snow clicks his tongue. “Oh, well I do hope you start again. All of us here in the Capitol only wish to see the two of you happy and settled with more children.”

The words are out of my mouth before I can really think. “I don’t want any more children.”

Snow tilts his head. “Really?”

“Well, what Katniss means is we haven’t given much thought to the idea of children," Peeta interjects. "I mean, Lucy Erryn was a surprise as you are well aware of and we would much rather focus all our attention on her for the time being."

Snow shakes his head, but doesn’t take his eyes off of me. “No, I don’t believe that’s what Ms. Everdeen meant at all.”

I want to take Lucy Erryn back. I want him gone. I want to go home. _I want to go home_.

“Do you or do you not want more children?” Snow asks.

“No,” I finally say. “I don’t think my body could physically handle it.”

Snow hums. “Very well.” He stands and transfers Lucy Erryn back into my arms.

I want to sink to the floor in relief.

He moves towards the door, the peacekeepers stepping out to clear the hallway for him. Before leaving, he pauses. “I do hope you reconsider your decision. Children are such a blessing and as I said, everyone in the Capitol only wants to see you with the happiness you deserve.”

As soon as the door closes behind him, my knees buckle. Peeta rushes to my side and catches me before I fall. He guides me to the living room and calls out for Delia to get me a glass of water.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, shaking my head. “I’m so sorry. I just…”

“Shh, it’s okay. I understand,” Peeta says.

I'm not sure what I'm apologizing for. And I'm not sure what Peeta understands.

Delia hands me the glass of water. As I take it, Peeta attempts to grab Lucy Erryn from me. But I turn away and tighten my grip on her. “He was holding her. He could’ve hurt her!”

“But he didn’t. I don’t think he would stoop that low.”

I shake my head. “No. No, he would. He would do it if it meant he had the upper hand. And I-I…I’m so stupid!”

“No. No, you are not,” Peeta says as he grabs my face in his hands. “You are not stupid. Maybe you can be reckless, but you are brave and will do whatever it takes to protect your family. To protect Lucy Erryn”

I’m crying, my body shaking at the thought of what could’ve happened. How Snow held her and he could’ve done _anything_.

But Peeta's right. I would risk anything to make sure Lucy Erryn is always safe. And I notice the numbness I've been feeling is gone.

Fear has replaced it. Fear of losing her. Because I _do_ love her. No matter how she came to be, I love her with her blonde curls and her nose that makes my heart ache every time I see it.

This realization terrifies me.

I still hold her tightly, but I feel my body beginning to sag against Peeta's. “I won’t let him hurt her. I won’t let him hurt _either_ of you.”

Peeta wraps his arms around me and gently rocks us back and forth.

“I promise,” I whisper.

How was I to know that promise would be broken a week later?

Peeta and I are sitting at the dining table, eating a late lunch. Lucy Erryn’s in her crib, sleeping peacefully for the past hour. Delia went out to pick up some groceries. Specifically diapers. I had no idea the diapers here in the Capitol were always thrown away. They aren't the same cloth diapers that are constantly used and reused.

There's a knock on the front door halfway through our lunch. Peeta and I exchange a look. After Snow’s visit, we've been edge. But I'm beginning to think that maybe nothing would come from his visit.

Peeta gets up and answers the door. Three peacekeepers are there.

I'm wrong.

“Mr. Mellark, we need you to come with us,” says the one that’s standing in front of the other two.

I get up, my chair scraping loudly across the floor. I'm not worried about waking Lucy Erryn. “No. No, he’s not going anywhere with you,” I say, hurrying over to him and pulling him back a few steps.

“Ma’am, we would like to make this as painless as possible.

The blood has drained from Peeta’s face. But he still grabs my hand and whispers, “It’s going to be okay.”

I shake my head, not taking my gaze away from the peacekeepers. “No, I want to know what’s going on? Where are you going to take him?" I refuse to let him go. I refuse to let him be taken from me.

The main peacekeeper rolls his eyes, before pulling out a small device. For a moment, I flinch, thinking it’s a gun.

The device is holograph showing a long line of text that’s scrolling faster than I can read it.

“By order of President Snow, Peeta Mellark is hereby required to attend a week long re-education course. Once he has completed the course, he will be returned back to his home.” He pockets the device again and looks as if he actually wants me to continue arguing.

“Katniss, it’s fine,” Peeta says. “I’ll…I’ll be back in a week.” But I can hear the fear in his voice.

This is all because of me. This is my fault. All because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut and agree to what Snow wanted from us.

“I’ll go,” I say, pushing Peeta behind me. “I’ll do this re-education course instead. Peeta stays.”

“Katniss-“

The main peacekeeper laughs. It’s a cruel laugh and I never want to hear it again. “The order is for Peeta Mellark, but if you ever want to go too, I’ll gladly come for you.”

Peeta’s pulling me back, a bit harder this time. “Katniss.” He grabs my shoulders and makes me look at him. “You have to stay here. You have to take care of Lucy Erryn. I am going to be fine. I’ll come back to you once this is done and I’ll be _fine_. But you have to promise me you’re going to stay here. That you’re going to watch Lucy Erryn.”

I know what’s he really asking me.

To not revert back to the daze I was in just a week ago before Snow's visit. To not mentally check out.

Just like I asked my mother when I left to my first Games.

I hate that I’ve become like her.

I nod.

“That’s enough,” the main peacekeeper says. “Kiss your wife and let’s go.”

I hear Peeta give a small, frustrated huff, before leaning forward and gently pecking his lips to mine. I try and commit the lingering warmth he's left on my lips to my memory.

“I’m going to come back,” he says, before letting me go and following the peacekeepers out of the penthouse.

I hurry after them but stop at the doorway. They surround Peeta as they walk down the short hallway to the elevator. His shoulders are tense, but he still keeps his head high.

The elevator doors open and Delia is there. She quickly gets off, stepping aside and keeping her head down as the peacekeepers pass her with Peeta.

Before the elevator doors close, I see Peeta giving me one last smile.

I go back into the penthouse and fall into the chair Peeta had just been sitting in at the dining table. Delia comes in, closing the door and setting the groceries down. She sits down next to me and slides the notebook to me.

_What happened?_

I look up at her. “They took him for a re-education course.”

Her face pales, confirming for me that things are not going to be okay.

“They’re going to hurt him, aren’t they?” I whisper.

A few seconds pass, before she nods her head.

What have I done?

I leave Delia in the dining room, moving to the room, curling up on the bed and waiting for this nightmare to finally be over.

Lucy Erryn eventually wakes up and starts crying. I don’t want to get up. I don’t want to deal with her without Peeta.

I can hear Delia grab her and her soft footsteps as she tries to calm Lucy Erryn down.

But she keeps crying and crying and I’m almost positive she can already sense that Peeta’s gone.

_You have to promise me you’re going to stay here. That you’re going to watch Lucy Erryn._

I promised him.

I can’t break another promise to him.

I get out of bed and follow the sounds of the cries to the nursery. Delia is gently bouncing Lucy Erryn, but she refuses to settle. I grab her and Delia looks relieved as I sit in the rocking chair and try everything I can to soothe her. Nurse her, burb her, changer her diapers, walk around with her in my arms, swaddle her.

Nothing gets her to calm down and it feels like that first night we brought her back to the penthouse where she would not stop crying. Except I don’t have Peeta here helping me.

“He’s gone Lucy Erryn!” I finally snap long after the sun has fallen behind the horizon. “He’s gone and I don’t know what they’re doing to him and it’s all my fault!”

She still cries, as if she didn’t even register anything I yelled.

I try one last thing. I have no idea if it’ll even work, but it’s the only thing I can think of.

I go to the closet and pull out one of Peeta’s sweaters. I use that to swaddle her.

She lets out a few more cries, but then starts moving her head to breathe in his scent.

She stops crying.

But I start crying, pressing her close to me, breathing in not only her scent, but Peeta’s.

“A re-education course? But what is that?” Effie asks me the next day when she comes over.

I shrug my shoulder. “I don’t know, but that’s where he is.”

Delia has finished putting together a swinging chair Effie bought for Lucy Erryn. She sets her in the chair, her little fingers clutching Peeta’s sweater as it’s become a security blanket for her.

“Re-education…I have never heard of anything more ridiculous!” Effie says, shaking her head still in disbelief.

Of course, she hasn’t heard of it. She’s just another one of the Capitol’s blind followers. I don’t blame her. She’s always lived in this comfortable bubble because of the Capitol. And somehow, her bubble has remained in tact even after knowing us.

“Well, I’m sure the time will pass by quickly. And just look at this precious angel! Oh, she loves her little chair, doesn’t she?”

Effie’s wrong. Time seems to crawl by. The only thing staying constant is Lucy Erryn and her schedule.

I keep my promise to Peeta. Even on days when I can barely leave the room, I still at least get out of bed for Lucy Erryn. She doesn’t sleep in the crib anymore, sleeping on Peeta's side of the bed in a nest of pillows and blankets and Peeta's sweater. I know it’s probably not a good idea, but I can’t stand the idea of her not being right beside me at night. Lucy Erryn is almost always either wrapped in Peeta’s sweater or has it close by to where she can easily reach out and grab it.

After what feels like two eternities, the week is finally over. I stay in the living room, waiting for the door to open and Peeta to walk through. He doesn’t come back until after lunch.

The door opens and he isn’t even past the threshold before I fling my arms around him and hug him.

He hugs me just as tightly, burying his face in the crook of my neck.

I can feel him trembling a little and he even feels as if he’s lost some weight. But he’s back. He’s alive and I’m holding him and he’s _back._

I pull back to look at him, to reassure myself that he’s here.

His eyes are sunken and I notice a small cut just above his brow. And looking at his face, it’s obvious that he did lose weight. “What did they do to you?” I whisper.

He shuts his eyes and gives a small shake of his head. “Lucy Erryn?”

Delia's holding her, keeping her distance and allowing us our small reunion. Once Peeta asked for Lucy Erryn though, she steps forward and lets Peeta grab her.

A shaky breath escapes his lips as he holds her. He presses a kiss to her forehead and I see a tear slip from his eye.

I gently grab him by the arm and my blood boils as I feel him flinch briefly. What have they done to him?  
  
But I don’t ask anything as I lead him to the room and we both lay down, with Lucy Erryn in between us.

He falls asleep almost as soon as his head hits the pillow, one hand lightly holding Lucy Erryn’s and the other wrapped around mine.

As he sleeps, I notice his body twitching more than usual and his face even scrunched up in pain. He’ll never tell me what they did to him, but I can see a bruise on his side from where his shirt has ridden up.

I will have however many babies Snow wants me to have if that means this never happens again.

I will never let Peeta get hurt because of me.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter definitely took on a life of it's own while I was editing it! I had something written and then it just took a completely different turn and I basically rewrote it. But I am super curious as to what everyone thinks of Katniss' characterization in this chapter. 
> 
> Hope you lovelies enjoy this chapter!

We don’t ever bring up the re-education course. Peeta hides his injuries well. But there are moments that I catch the severity of them. I see his healing bruises on his chest and back in the dim morning light as he changes while he thinks I'm asleep. He's extra careful putting on and taking off his prosthetic and avoids getting on the ground to play with Lucy Erryn. He only ever holds Lucy Erryn with his right arm and if he uses his left arm for anything, his eyes narrow as he fights back a wince.

A month later, when his body seems to have healed, I'm laying in his arms, wide awake while he sleeps. I move a little to try and get more comfortable. The movement brings up his sleeve and my hand brushes against raised skin.

I lift my head and with the city lights coming in through the window, I can make out a jagged scar on the bicep of his left arm. Being careful not to wake him, I push up his sleeve a little more and the scar doesn't seem to end. I imagine it all across his chest and back, spreading like branches of a tree.

I did that to him. It's my fault.

But then he's pulling his arm away and I realize he's awake. He doesn't meet my eyes as he pulls his sleeve back down.

"Peeta...I-"

He shakes his head, still not looking at me. "It's done. We can't do anything to change what happened. Me holding this against you or you feeling guilty about this isn't going to make things better. The only thing we can do is to learn from this and move on."

Yeah, I can learn how to keep my damn mouth shut, but what can he learn?

That I'm never going to do anything to deserve him?

"Okay," I say softly.

He finally looks at me and offers me the tiniest smile. Then he settles back down and pulls me with him.

I don't sleep at all, promising myself that I'll never say anything that might give Snow a reason to hurt him.

It comes time for the Victory Tour, but since the Quell was canceled, the tour is canceled as well. But the Capitol still takes an entire week off for parties and celebrations and parades.

We're invited to dozens of events, but we decline every invitation, using Lucy Erryn as our excuse. Next year will be different though. When there's actually a Victor to celebrate and Lucy Erryn can be left with someone.

A few weeks later, Peeta's face starts showing up on the screens everywhere as Caesar’s newest co-host. He hasn't actually done a show yet, but they're already announcing his new position with promos and clips.

Peeta's first official show lands on Prim's birthday. She would've been fourteen today. I doubt he even knows. Birthday's in Twelve weren't really celebrated. The only birthday celebrated was your nineteenth birthday. The first year that you didn't have to worry about being reaped.

Lucy Erryn's cries pull me out of bed and I bring her into the living room to nurse her while I turn on the TV to watch Peeta's first show. If I try, maybe I won't dwell on memories of Prim.

Peeta sits across from Caesar in what looks like a parlor room. His smile is steady and the banter with Caesar is familiar. He's wearing a dark green suit, one that makes his eyes look like the sky at twilight.

_"Look, Katniss. He's wearing your favorite color."_

I take a deep breath and push out Prim's voice.

The topics he and Caesar cover remind me of the conversations at every Capitol event I've attended. They talk about different parties and gossip about film stars and speculate over who wore the best outfit.

Peeta's face is a perfect mask of animation.

_"Why would anyone care about someone wearing the same dress twice?"_

I stand up to start burping Lucy Erryn. With every pat on her back, I remind myself that Prim is not here.

There's only about five minutes left in the show once Lucy Erryn's released all the air in her stomach. I sit back down and keep her in my arms. Not once does she look over to the screen as her daddy talks, keeping her eyes focused on my braid as her hands gently tug at it.

Caesar turns to Peeta after they finish reviewing a clip of some actor and his new tattoos. _“Now, Peeta, I realize that we are co-workers now. Oh, I should add that to my list of Top Ten Things I Never Thought I’d Ever Say.”_

I notice the way Peeta's eyebrows lift just a little. Caesar must be going off script. But Peeta laughs, going along with Caesar. _“I aim to surprise everyone.”_

Caesar laughs too. _“Oh, you’re too much!"_ He pushes Peeta's prosthetic knee jokingly before waving his hands. _"Now, before I get too sidetracked, I want to interview you. For old time’s sake.”_

Peeta nods, as if giving Caesar permission to do so.

_“The Mellark household has been very quiet since the events of the Quarter Quell last year. Now, we all know that you have a beautiful baby girl. Lucy Erryn Mellark. Quite a mouthful! I almost feel like jumbling it all together and calling her 'Lucern'."_

Peeta's smile is tight. _"Well, her name is Lucy Erryn and that's what Katniss and I call her."_

 _"Of course. You're her parents. But for everyone else, I think we'll just stick to calling her Lucern. I'm not saying it's a bad name. No, it's such a_ strong _name. And a very interesting choice. Is there a story behind the name?"_

I know Peeta won't give the real reason on camera, but my heart still drops a little.

Instead, Peeta keeps the smooth smile on his face. _"Lucy was a name that both Katniss and I have heard before and we just really liked it. And Erryn is a family name on Katniss' side."_

Caesar clicks his tongue and coos. _"Well, I believe we have a photo of her?”_

I tense. I don’t ever remember giving anyone permission to show a picture of Lucy Erryn. Judging by the look in Peeta’s eyes, neither did he.

Sure enough, a picture of Lucy Erryn show up on the screen. It’s one Flavius took, with her dressed up as a pumpkin, sleeping in her crib.

My grip on Lucy Erryn tightens a little. I’m going to have to talk to everyone that comes over and tell them they can not give out pictures of Lucy Erryn without our permission.

Except I’m sure any pictures of Lucy Erryn will still somehow end up leaked to the public.

 _“Oh, she is so adorable! I could eat her up!”_ Caesar exclaims.

Peeta’s smile is looking more forced by the second. _“Yes, she’s the most precious baby I’ve ever seen.”_

Caesar laughs. _“Well, someone’s a little biased…but anyways, so you moved to the Capitol, have this precious baby girl. How has adjusting to the Capitol been? I mean, aside from your trip to the hospital, no one has seen you leave your new residence. How can you really enjoy your new home when you've barely explored it?"_

_"You're right, we really haven't left, but that's only because we're still adjusting to life here and life with a baby on top of that. But I can assure you that once we get into a more stable routine, we'll be out and getting familiar with all the sights the Capitol has."_

I groan. Public excursions is the last thing I want to do.

_"And how is your new life, your new home, here in the Capitol?"_

Horrible.

_“Great. I mean, everyone’s been so kind and generous with us. We have a nice penthouse close to some friends of ours. Katniss is working on some pieces with my former designer, Portia. And I’m working with you Caesar. That’s definitely a plus.”_

_“Oh stop it!”_

_“Of course, there’s always going to be difficult moments. I think we are always going to miss Twelve. It was our home, but…we couldn’t be more happy here in the Capitol.”_

A perfect lie for the cameras.

_“Aw, that is just so wonderful to hear. You’ve mentioned all these things, but I did notice that you haven’t mentioned anything about a wedding? I know, I know, you had that quaint little ceremony a year ago. But surely you’re still planning a big, glamorous celebration here in your new home?”_

I notice a slight flinch from Peeta when Caesar uses the word ‘home.’ But he carries on.

_“Yes, we would love to. And like I said, with all these changes getting used to living with a baby, we haven’t really had time to discuss any plans. But I can tell you for sure that we plan to be married by the end of this year.”_

Caesar claps his hands and squeals. He doesn't know it's an answer Peeta's been practicing since last night after we discussed it.

“He’s going to ask about the wedding. He’s going to fit in there somehow,” Peeta told me last night in bed as he stared up at the ceiling.

“Tell him we haven’t thought about it because of Lucy Erryn and just…everything. It’s not even like it’s a lie.”

“But we are going to have to start planning it.”

I pursed my lips. Married to Peeta. Worse things could happen. Worse things _have_ happened, I think, remembering that he was sent to a re-education course not too long ago. “By the end of the year then,” I say. “Tell him that’s what we’re aiming for.”

After seeing him give a small nod of approval I turn my back to him and try to dream of a life where we can make our own decisions instead of dealing with lies and manipulation.

_"You heard it here first, folks! Our favorite star-crossed lovers finally getting the fairy tale ending they deserve by the end of this year! I'm Caesar Flickerman,"_

_"And I'm Peeta Mellark."_

_"And this is_ Wake Up Smiling! _See you next time!"_ The show ends with the seal of Panem and a short fanfare.

_"You are going to be such a beautiful bride."_

I shut the TV off and try not to look in the corner where Prim's ghost it. I set Lucy Erryn down in her swing and move to the kitchen to make some toast for myself. Delia comes in as I'm finishing up. I offer her some, but she shakes her head and gets to work on the chores she set for herself since Peeta and I could never come up with work for her to do.

I leave Lucy Erryn with her while I go into the workshop that's now full of fabric and mannequins and sewing machines that Portia picked out. I don't touch any of it, grabbing instead a notebook. Portia's given me homework, that she wants me to design three different dresses before she takes me to go buy fabric.

I only draw one outfit the entire day. Variations on Prim's first reaping outfit.

I do everything I can to distract me from memories of her. But I see her here, sitting on the couch, cooing over Lucy Erryn, standing out in the balcony and breathing in the winter air.

Peeta comes back by the time the sun is setting and maybe seeing him will keep me from seeing Prim's ghost.

I come out of the workshop to see Peeta stretched out on the couch with Erryn lying on her stomach on top of him, giggling away. He’s smiling at her and actually looks content.

Happy.

 _"Don't you want to be happy, Katniss?"_ Prim's ghost asks me. _"Like him?"_

Anger builds inside of me. I know it's irrational, but I can't stop it. How could I ever be happy here? Especially on a day like today? How could _Peeta_ be happy here?

I go into the kitchen to help Delia serve dinner, barely muttering a greeting when Peeta sees me. He sets Lucy Erryn down in her swing before going into the kitchen. He tells Delia she can go home, that we’ll take care of the cleaning up.

She leaves and we start eating dinner in silence. The only thing breaking it up is the scraping of silverware on our plates and the occasional grunt from Lucy Erryn.

“So how was your day?” Peeta finally asks.

“Fine,” I say, not looking up at him. I don't mention seeing Prim everywhere. That I _still_ see her. Right now, sitting at the other end of the table, watching me.

 _"Tell him,"_ she says.

I stab the roasted vegetables on my plate harder than necessary.

“I called Flavius,” Peeta says, not seeming to pick up on anything wrong. “He said that he never gave them that picture of Lucy Erryn and doesn’t know how they got it.”

My jaw clenches. “Guess nothing in our life will ever be private. But at least we’re _happy_.”

Peeta loudly sets down his fork. “I _knew_ you were upset about that comment,” he groaned.

“Why would I be upset? We are happy and perfectly adjusting to life here in the Capitol.” I glance up and see Prim's ghost shaking her head in a disapproval.

“Come on, Katniss. I only said that for the cameras. I shouldn't even have to explain that to you."

I bite the inside of my cheek. Of course, I know that. But he looked so happy on the couch with Lucy Erryn and…

Was it really a lie for him?

Lucy Erryn starts fussing and without another word to him, I get up and carry her into the nursery.

I don’t know why I’m so upset with him. Can I blame him for being happy while holding his daughter? Or maybe I’m not upset with him. Maybe I’m upset with myself because I don’t think I can ever be happy again. Even as I hold Lucy Erryn, I’m not happy.

I can’t remember the last time I was ever happy.

 _"That wasn't very fair of you,"_ Prim says, standing in front of me with crossed arms.

I get up and walk through her, trying to get rid of this vision of her.

Peeta comes to the nursery after cleaning the kitchen. He tries to talk to me, but the words stay stuck in my throat.

 _"Why don't you tell him about me?"_ Prim asks.

That's the last thing I want to tell him.

 _"Or at least tell him_ something."

Still, I keep my mouth shut.

Annoyance and frustration grows on Peeta's face as he tries to get me to speak, to the point that I think he might start yelling.

But then he shakes his head and walks out of the nursery without another word.

Peeta has to get up early again tomorrow, so I wait in the nursery until I'm positive he's gone to sleep. When I go in, he's sleeping closer to the middle, his face inches away from my pillow. I take a deep breath and settle in next to him.

His sleeve has bunched up again and I can see that ugly scar again.

 _"Just talk to him, Katniss._ "

I squeeze my eyes shut and roll to the edge of the bed. I don't want to see her ghost anymore.

And for a whole week, we hardly exchange a word. I stay at home with Lucy Erryn, taking care of her and attempting to draw an outfit that isn't Prim's reaping outfit.

I still see her ghost. It seems like everyday I see her more and more to where I almost reach out to touch her and I'm positive I would touch warm skin.

I am losing my grip on reality.

Peeta continues going into work and every morning, I sit with Lucy Erryn and Prim's ghost to watch him.

And at the end of the show, Prim's ghost always tells me, _"Just talk to him, Katniss."_

Dinner is the only meal we eat together and it’s silent for the most part. At least it is for Peeta. He can't hear any comments from Prim. She tries to get me to talk, making comments on what piece of his outfit is green today and why does he have his hair combed over like that. But I stay quiet.

Portia comes over a few days after Peeta's first show. I do my best to smile for her and to ignore Prim's ghost that's in every corner I look at.

She seems content with my drawing of Prim's reaping outfit. I don't even think she realizes what it is. "I did ask for three, but since you're new at this, we can work with this. Now let's go. I'll take you to Cinna's favorite fabric shop."

I leave Lucy Erryn with Delia since the air is still too cold for her. The entire drive, Portia tells me of the potential she sees in me to become a great designer and maybe one day I could be a designer for the Games too.

"Have you heard from Cinna?" I ask in one of the few moments she's silent.

"No, I haven't. But I'm sure he's fine wherever he is. Apparently, it was very serious, the family emergency he had to deal with. No one's sure when he'll be coming back."

I turn my head and look out the window. It was mistake to ask. Because I already know what happened to him, even if no one's confirmed it for me.

He's dead, by order of President Snow.

Portia parks her car and before getting out, she turns to me. "Now Katniss, I only think it's fair that I give you a warning before we go in."

The blood in my veins turn into ice. What is she talking about? What kind of place has she brought me to?

"The owner of this shop is...oh, how do I put this... _strange_."

I blink. To hear Portia describe this shop owner as strange must really mean something.

"I honestly have no idea how she's managed to keep her business afloat for so long, but Cinna has always been such a loyal customer. I know if he were here, this would be the only place he would bring you to buy fabric and any other materials. She is a former stylist for the Games, so she will have the highest quality materials."

A bell chimes as we walk into the shop. Immediately, I'm hit with a stuffy smell. It's dim in the shop and I wonder how anyone could pick out the right color in this lighting.

"Tigris? Are you here?" Portia calls out.

I hear the soft padding of feet before Portia does. So I'm not startled when a woman steps out from behind a rack of clothing. "Portia," the woman says. "I didn't expect to ever see you here again after Cinna's disappearance."

Portia gives an uneasy laugh after being startled. "Well, as I was just telling Katniss, he did _not_ disappear Cinna. He's still dealing with his family emergency."

The woman gave what sounded like a low growl. "If that's what you choose to believe."

Portia clears her throat. "Cinna enjoyed giving you his business. I only thought it appropriate to bring her here as well. Katniss, this is Tigris."

We both stare at each other and it feels as if we're sizing each other up. The woman is strange. Every inch of her skin that I can see is covered in tattoos that gives the appearance of a tiger. She even has whiskers sticking out of her cheeks and her nose is flattened like a tiger.

"Katniss Everdeen," Tigris says. "The girl on fire."

I swallow hard, but make sure I'm smiling. "Tigris, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Tigris gives a long sniff. "You didn't bring your daughter?"

"No, the air is still a little too cold for her. I don't want her getting sick."

Tigris pouts slightly. "Pity. I would've liked to hold her for a moment. I especially love her name. Lucy. I'm sure others here in the Capitol love it too," she says with an odd smile. Then she turns to Portia. "What can I help you with today?"

She begins explaining my new position and shows her the drawing I've done of not Prim's reaping outfit. The two begin talking of materials and fabrics and I know I should be paying attention, but I see Prim twirling in the center of the room.

Tigris starts walking and Portia follows, so I assume I should follow as well. She pulls out different fabrics, explaining the differences in hues and material, asking questions of what I envisioned.

I don't know what to tell her. I'm distracted by Prim exclaiming over a bright pink fabric with sequins that glitters even in this dim lighting.

Portia answers for me. And it's fine because I'm still under training. I can't envision this outfit in my mind because I just see Prim. Effie calling out her name. Prim stepping past the crowd. Her shirt sticking out from her skirt like a duck's tail.

_"Will you be making this dress for me, Katniss? Will it make you happy to see me in it?"_

"Katniss?"

I snap my head up to see Portia and Tigris staring at me. One of them must've asked me a question. "What?"

"Are you happy with this fabric?" Portia asks.

Except I only hear the first part of her question.

 _"Are you happy?"_ Prim's ghost repeats

My tongue feels heavy in my mouth. I can't come up with an answer. The walls look as if they're beginning to close in and I still see Prim, twirling away with her pigtails flying in the air with her, repeating the question over and over and over.

Next thing I know, I'm outside, gulping down the cold air and reaching for something to steady me. Then I feel a hand grabbing my arm, but it's not Peeta's hand and I try to pull away, but they're not letting go.

I look up and it's Portia.

"Katniss, what is going on? Are you alright?"

_"Why won't you let yourself be happy, Katniss?"_

"Please, just take me back," I whisper. I want to say home, but that place is destroyed. I'll never have another chance to see it again.

Portia helps me back into her car and the drive to the penthouse is silent. It's in the elevator that she tries to ask me what happened, but what can I tell her? That the ghost of my dead sister is haunting me? Asking me why I can't be happy?

As soon as I open the door to the penthouse, the sound of Lucy Erryn screaming her lungs out fills the air. Delia is trying to get her to eat from a bottle with little success.

It's the perfect excuse to get rid of Portia and her questions. I turn to her, thank her for her time today, and promise I'll call her when I'm ready to pick up the fabric. Then I grab Lucy Erryn and carry her into the nursery.

Lucy Erryn fights the bottle still, but I at least manage to get her to drink half of it. Then I lay her down, making sure the blanket we made out of Peeta's sweater is covering her.

_"Katniss, look! She has my nose!"_

I leave the nursery and go into the room, but Prim's ghost follows me.

I'm not surprised when Peeta comes back from work an hour early. He stands close to me and tries to speak to me with soft words. But I move away from him. I don't want to be the reason he can't be happy here.

_"If you let yourself, you could be happy too. You know that."_

I almost reach over for the first thing I can grab to throw at Prim's ghost.

Peeta has the weekends off. Still, he gets up early and I can hear him in the kitchen, most likely making some bread. I don’t get up until I hear Lucy Erryn start crying. Then I get up to grab her and bring her back to the room.

_"It smells like cheesebuns. Your favorite."_

He comes in the room with cheesebuns and tries to coax me to eat. I turn away from him and bury myself further under the covers.

He leaves the plate on the nightstand and grabs Lucy Erryn, saying he’s taking her out to the balcony for some fresh air. I almost sit up and tell him not to. That the air is still too cold for her. But then I do remember the sun shining a little brighter today and the first signs of spring was beginning to show.

_"I bet the primroses are starting to bloom back home."_

As Peeta leaves, he’s making faces at her and making her giggle. He laughs too.

_"He has a nice laugh. Don't you think?"_

My heart clenches and I bury my face in my pillow.

Sunday goes pretty much the same way, except in the evening, Peeta comes in and tosses his sketch book on the bed while he balances Lucy Erryn in one arm.

“Open it,” he says.

I sit up and grab it.

The first page is a drawing of Prim.

My hand covers my mouth as I let out a strangled sob.

It’s Prim with primroses braided into her hair and it’s as if she’s been caught mid-laugh. The next page is my mother and then there’s Gale and Peeta’s family and Haymitch and even that stupid cat, Buttercup, made it.

Peeta sits down and lays Lucy Erryn on her stomach. She grunts, a little drool coming from her mouth, but she’s attempting to keep her head up. “This is hard, Katniss. Nothing about this will ever be easy,” he says. “But if we want to have even a small chance of at least making something good for Lucy Erryn, we have to be open with each other. Yeah, it’s easier for me, but…please don’t shut me out, Katniss. We _have_ to communicate."

I flip the pages back to the drawing of Prim. I lightly touch it, feeling tears falling down my cheeks.

“I keep seeing her everywhere," I whisper. "This whole week she's been here and I can't...I can't stop seeing her and I miss her so much, but I can't even reach out to touch her."

 _"Katniss?"_ Her ghost reaches out to cover my hand. But it goes straight through me.

Peeta's response surprises me. "Oh my God, I'm so stupid. I forgot about that."

I open my eyes to look at him with a frown.

"It was her birthday this week, wasn't it?"

How did he know?

"She told me last year...I made her some strawberry cupcakes. And it was Monday, wasn't it?"

I give a small nod before covering my mouth to hold back a sob.

Then he pulls me into his arms and the sobs pour out of me.

When the sobs seem to have finally emptied out of my chest, I whisper, "I don’t think I can ever be happy. I miss them too much and…I’m _broken_ , Peeta and it’s not fair to Lucy Erryn or you. Because you…” I look up at him. “You _are_ happy. And maybe you don’t think so, but I see the way you look at Lucy Erryn and I can see that you are happy. I just wish that I could be happy too.”

“Yeah, I guess I am happy every time I look at Lucy Erryn. I’ve always wanted kids and even though I hate the way Lucy Erryn was conceived, I’m still happy we have her, that I get to be her dad. But it’s okay if you aren’t happy. Because you still love her. Right now, that's enough. As long as it's true that you love her, I think it’s okay if you can’t bring yourself to be happy. Doesn’t mean I’m not going to do everything I can to try and make you feel happy, but it’s okay if you can’t.”

His words make my heart unclench just a little. For a moment, I think that maybe I might never be happy, but at least I can have small moments of peace with Peeta and Lucy Erryn.

_"Are you going to let yourself be happy?"_

“Come on,” says Peeta, getting up from the bed and taking the sketchbook. He doesn't know it, but he walks straight through Prim's ghost. “We never had a memorial service.”

I grab Lucy Erryn and follow Peeta into the kitchen, sitting quietly as he puts the sketchbook in a pot and lights it on fire. Lucy Erryn sits on my lap, eyes captivated with the flames that she can see coming over the pot.

In Twelve, there was always a chance that after any mining accident, the bodies of those who died would never be recovered. Instead of burying an empty wooden box, the families would gather ashes from their hearths and scatter them outside.

This is the best we can do.

We take the ashes of the sketchbook out to the balcony and while Peeta recites the funeral prayer, I scatter the ashes.

“Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, and dust to dust, we therefore commit the bodies of these, our loved ones, to the sky, in the sure and certain hope that they are resting in eternal peace, where war, sickness, famine, and fire will no longer touch them.”

The wind carries the ashes as soon as I open my hand. In the night sky, it’s difficult to see the ashes being carried away.

I close my eyes and bring up an image of Prim. Smiling and laughing. It’s how I want to remember her. Not the way she died, choking from the smoke, debris crushing her small body, or worse, burning alive from the flames of the bombs.

Peeta comes up behind me and wraps his arms around me. I release whatever tension is still in my body and I let myself grieve for everything I have ever lost because of the Capitol.

Prim's ghost fades away with the ashes in the night sky.


	8. Chapter 8

After our private memorial service, the months fly by, I hardly have time to process everything. I work with Portia almost daily in designing my first outfit and getting it ready for the debut on _Wake Up Smiling!_. Even on days when I can't seem to get the stitching right, she's patient with me and says it'll come with more practice.

Then there are appointments for the wedding. Finding a venue, taste-testing food, picking out flowers, choosing a color scheme. And of course, selecting a new wedding dress.

Despite Caesar pestering Peeta on live television for details of it and hidden photographers following me around everywhere when I leave the penthouse, we manage to keep things private.

And then there's being parents to Lucy Erryn. By the time spring is in full bloom, she's crawling everywhere and getting into things. For the first few days, I'm constantly calling her, telling her she can't open the kitchen cabinets or stick her fingers in the electrical sockets. But it's as if she ignores me and I have to grab her which always results in her screaming as if I've scared her. Thankfully, that only lasts a few days since we buy a playpen for her and also completely baby proof the entire loft.

With the time passing so fast, I don't even think about the Hunger Games until the Reapings are aired live.

Peeta isn't with me. Instead, he's at work. His new position as Caesar's co-host means he'll also be a commentator for the entirety of the Games.

I'll hardly see him for however long the Games last this year. And it'll be the same every year for the rest of our lives. Me, watching as a Capitol citizen and Peeta, commentating on the deaths of these children.

"How am I supposed to do this?" he whispers to me in bed, the night before the Opening Ceremonies. "That was us last year and now I'll be up on that platform, my job to make their deaths one big entertaining show."

I don't know what to tell him. Instead, I rest my head on his chest and listen to the steady thump of his heart. It's selfish of me, but I focus on the fact that that's not us anymore. We don't have to ever go into the arena again. We don't have to become mentors to the children of District 12, choosing which one to try and save.

Focusing on that is the only way I can make it through this month.

I hold on to that thought throughout the next day. Sitting in my reserved seat in the presidential booth during the Opening Ceremonies. Holding Lucy Erryn as she laughs and claps at all the bright colors. Smiling at all the people who come up to me and ask for details on wedding plans.

I don't know how I manage it, but not once does my mask slip. Only once I'm in the car with Peeta as we drive back to the penthouse to get ready for the party this evening do I let it fall.

My hands cover my face as a shuddering gasp escapes my lips and I start crying, my mind filled with memories and I half expect ghosts to start showing up again.

Peeta grabs my hand as he continues driving. "You just need to get through this evening and you won't have to leave the penthouse until the Games are over."

It's meant to reassure me, but it only reminds me of how unfair it is. Because he has to still go out, his face always on the screen and he has to smile and laugh and make light of these deaths.

And I hate myself for thinking it, but I'm glad it's not me.

Effie comes by just as Peeta's leaving the nursery after putting Lucy Erryn down for the night.

"Thanks again for watching her," Peeta says as he joins my side. "She shouldn't wake up, but if she does there's a bottle in the fridge and the diapers are in the bottom-"

"Peeta, I've spent enough time with Katniss to know where things are in this place and how to handle Lucy Erryn when she wakes up," Effie interrupts him. Then she clasps her hands and looks at us, me in a deep purple dress that almost looks black and Peeta in a suit with a tie to match my dress. "You two look stunning as always."

Peeta looks over at me, his eyes twinkling as he gives a crooked smile. "At least one of us does."

The tips of my ears begin burning and I quickly look away. "We're going to miss you dragging us around to meet people," I say, turning my attention back to Effie.

Effie smiles and waves a hand. "You two don't need me to introduce you anymore. Pretty soon, you'll know even more important people than I do with Peeta's position."

Her smile wavers a little though and I remember the phone call I had with her a few days earlier when I asked if she would be going.

 _“I can’t,”_ she says over the phone. I can tell she had been crying moments before. _“None of these events are ever going to be the same again.”_

With the one-year anniversary looming over us, I understand completely. Which is why I asked her to stay with Lucy Erryn. Maybe that can provide a distraction for at least one night."

The drive to the Presidential Palace is silent for the most part, both of us lost in our own thoughts and memories and at the same trying to force it all down to brace ourselves for this night and the remainder of the Games. Halfway there, I tell Peeta, "I don't want to talk to any of the mentors."

Especially Finnick and Johanna. They're the only two that have come back from last year. All the other mentors are people I don't know. And I have no desire to get to know them.

"Yeah, I kind of wanted to avoid them too," he responds.

Avoid any reminder of what our lives should've been.

As Peeta pulls into the line for valet parking, I grab his hand and look at him.

"Eyes brights, chins up, smiles on," I say.

He smiles at me. "That means you, Katniss."

It brings us both back to a time that was simpler. Still filled with uncertainty and lies and manipulation, but now it's so much worse.

Once we step out of the car, I keep a smile glued on my face, my arm linked through Peeta's. We weave through the crowds, making our rounds in speaking with people and mingling.

"Peeta! Peeta, there you are! I was hoping to find you!"

We turn as one to a man standing in front of us. The first thing I notice is his gray beard that's split in two braids that ends with gold beads. His gray hair is pulled up into a high bun with gold flakes sprinkled in. But despite the color of his hair, his face is young.

I straighten my shoulders a little and make sure I'm smiling. Like with most everyone here, I don't trust him. But there's something more to him that makes me distrust him even more. Maybe it's the way his green eyes seem to be stuck in a constant narrow. Or the way his nose angles down. I know in my gut that I can not trust him.

Peeta smiles politely and shakes his outstretched hand. "I don't believe we've meet?"

"No, we haven't. But I wanted to be sure and introduce myself before our big interview. I'm Dilyan. The newest head gamemaker."

My mouth opens, but I shut it before I can say anything that might get either of us in trouble.

Peeta's the one to speak. "Oh? What happened to Plutarch?"

Dilyan's eyebrows raise. "Tsk, tsk, Peeta. Seems like someone hasn't done their homework!"

His smile is strained and I can see him fighting back his own retort. So I speak next. "Yes, well, that might be my fault actually. We've been so busy trying to plan for this wedding that's coming up soon. Isn't that right, honey?"

Peeta turns to look at me, his smile relaxing some. "Yeah, that's right. Just...busy making sure everything is perfect." He pulls me in closer and I play along, resting my head on his shoulder and placing a hand on his chest.

Dilyan gives a small shake of his head. "Well, I guess I'm free to give you the unfortunate news that Plutarch died a few months ago. He was a very private man though and our dear president wanted to respect his wishes of keeping things quiet. So sad really. A brilliant man. You should've seen the designs he had for the arena last year. And then those damned rebels had to blow it up. But they got what came to them if you ask me."

My body stiffens and I feel myself moving in towards him, ready to wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze his head off.

"Everyone has their opinion," Peeta says, holding me back and squeezing my arm in a reminder of where we are.

Dilyan tilts his head. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Why does one act of violence have to be responded with another?" Peeta says. The longer he speaks, the more his frustration becomes obvious. "If we say we're better than our ancestors from the Dark Days, how do the actions of last year prove that? How do the Games-"

Now it's my turn to squeeze Peeta's arm. He can not question the tradition of the Hunger Games out in the open like this. "Peeta, I'm feeling a little dizzy, Can we find a place to sit?"

He looks at me with frustration in his eyes. But he clenches his jaw and nods. "Dilayn, I look forward to speaking with you more about your arena tomorrow."

We turn around and as soon as we do, Peeta grabs a drink off a passing Avox. He downs half of it and I can tell from the grimace on his face that it's some kind of alcohol.

"Don't start turning into a drunk on me," I mumble.

"You don't have to worry about that. I don't even like the stuff. I just..." He shakes his head as he trails off.

I don't know what he wanted to say, but I understand what he's feeling. Trapped. Like an animal. Having to be so careful with every single word. Not able to express any kind of dissent with the way things are run. Allowed to walk freely so long as we stay within the confines of our cage.

How are we going to live the rest of our lives like this without losing who we really are?

We keep walking around the grounds. Saying our hellos and holding polite conversation with people. At one point, there's a woman dressed from head to toe in orange. She catches sight of Peeta and her face breaks into a wide smile.

"Peeta!" she exclaims, attempting to move past the crowd that's standing between us.

Peeta ducks his head and places a hand on my back to spin me around in the opposite direction and moving into a large crowd. He grabs my hand and continues pulling me, twisting and weaving through them until we're in a completely different area. And even then, he doesn't stop, turning a few corners and walking down hallways littered with people. Not until we're back outside in a different garden does he stop.

"Someone you know?" I ask once our pace has slowed.

Peeta looks behind him, as if checking to make sure we weren't followed. "Uh, yeah, some lady from work."

I tilt my head. I have never known Peeta to run away from anyone. He's always great with people and being here at this party just proves he can hold a conversation with anyone.

He must notice my curious look because he blows out a deep breath. "She's kind of...strange, I guess."

I scoff. "Like everyone else?"

"No, she's definitely a bit more stranger than everyone else. So let's just add her to the list of people we want to avoid and try to get through the rest of this evening without running into any of them."

I don't like the worried look on his face. I want to press him for more explanation. Before I can, I have to hold back a groan of my own as I hear someone start talking to us.

“Gotta say, I was extremely surprised at the stroke of luck you two got last year."

It's Finnick, sauntering up to us like he did the year before when I first met him. Everything about him except his clothes is exactly the same. Especially his stupid smile, as if he knows all the secrets in Panem.

I wouldn't doubt that for a second.

Peeta gulps back the rest of his drink without grimacing this time. “I think it’s safe to say that all of us were pretty lucky last year.”

Finnick smirks. “But I mean, you two definitely got the best part of the deal. Able to settle down with a family, living in the all the luxury and glory of the Capitol. How are you liking things, by the way, Katniss?”

“Just fine, thank you,” I say without a smile.

Finnick laughs. “Hmm, that’s what I thought you would say. Question is, have you found out any secrets I should know of?”

Peeta wraps a hand around my waist. “That’s the thing about secrets. If either of us had any, we wouldn’t be sharing them.”

"I have my ways," he says with a shrug. It's with that movement that I realize Finnick is drunk because as he shrugged, he has to take a tiny step forward to regain his balance. Have I really forgotten what a drunk person sounds like?

Peeta's hand tightens a little. "That you know aren't going to work with either of us."

Finnick laughs again, pointing a lazy finger in Peeta's face. “Got me there. But who knows, Peeta? Maybe you'll be able to start collecting secrets too."

His hand tightens again and I actually squirm a little in discomfort. He notices, immediately loosening his grip and taking a deep breath.

"That isn't going to happen," Peeta says through clenched teeth and a camera-ready smile.

“I should’ve known they would be the first Capitol power couple you try to shake down for sponsorships,” Johanna Mason says to Finnick as she walks up to us, placing her empty glass on the tray of a passing Avox and grabbing another one filled with wine.

If it weren't for Peeta's hand around me, I would've walked away.

"We were just catching up," Peeta says, his smile strained. "And we've already discussed it. Since I'm a commentator, we didn't think it'd be fair to do gifts."

But it's because we don't want to send money into what those gifts really provide.

More funding for the peacekeepers. To keep the Districts controlled and the Capitol living in blissful luxury.

Johanna smirks. "Wow, wouldn't have expected you two discussing finances like an old married couple already."

"Well, we are getting married this year."

"Can either of us expect invitations?"

"Maybe Finnick, but not you, Johanna," I say.

Finnick barks out a laugh

Johanna glares as she finishes the wine. "I don't care. Why would I want to make an extra trip out to this hell hole? Coming here once a year is already enough. Aren't you tired of all your many visits Finnick?"

I look to Finnick, but he's now glaring at Johanna. "I didn't realize you made more trips to the Capitol besides the Games."

Then Johanna laughs. But it's not like Finnick's. It loud and angry and drunk. "Oh, there's a whole list of victors that take multiple trips here. Peeta's name was supposed to be on that list too."

"What list? What are you talking about?" My heart is in my throat and I have to grab Peeta's hand to remind myself that he is right and he's safe and nothing is going to happen to him.

"That's enough, Johanna," Finnick growls, grabbing her arm. It sounds as if he's suddenly sobered.

Johanna could've easily pulled her arm out of his grip, but the amount of alcohol she's had makes her clumsy. "Come on, Finnick. She can't stay innocent for long. Not while she's living here. Hasn't she learned by now that she can't protect anyone?!"

She's drawing attention now and people are whispering and shaking their heads in disgust.

Finnick looks at us with a tight smile. "Looks like Johanna's more drunk than I am. Excuse us," he says before walking away and dragging Johanna with him.

But Johanna still has time to throw in one last thing.

"Better hurry up and become Mrs. Mellark before Peeta's name ends up on that list."

I watch Finnick drag Johanna away. I want to demand answers from both of them. What list is she talking about? Why would Peeta's name be on there? And I voice my question to him, not expecting him to have the answer.

Except he doesn't meet my eyes.

He knows exactly what list she was talking about.

"Peeta?"

"We'll talk about it later."

My heart is pounding in my throat. Puzzle pieces in front of me. Finnick and his secrets and saying Peeta can get secrets too. Johanna talking about a stupid list. Peeta grabbing my hand and practically running away from one of his co-workers.

I'm afraid what the picture will be once the pieces are connected.

I don't have time to process any of this though. We're pulled into a conversation of someone insisting on details of the wedding. That's how we spend the rest of the night. People pulling us into their little circles, asking for information about the wedding and 'Lucern'.

It's well after midnight by the time we make it back to the penthouse. I'm exhausted and as soon as I'm in bed, I know I'll fall asleep right away.

But I can't get any of what happened with Finnick and Johanna and Peeta's co-worker out of my head. So as I sit on the bed and Peeta helps me pull out all the pins in my hair, I ask him again.

He sighs. "Can we talk about it later? I'm really tired."

I turn to face him. "Are you on that list?"

"No." He pulls out a clip and places it in my hands. "But getting married will make sure my name doesn't end up on it."

Peeta doesn't say anything else. Hearing the exhaustion in his voice, I don't press him for more information. And I know it's more than physical exhaustion. Especially with how tightly he holds me that night.

The TV is always on now. Since it's mandatory to watch the Hunger Games, the Capitol programmed every TV in the city to stay on and at a set volume. No matter how many times I try to mute it, the sound still fills the penthouse. In every room, I can hear Caesar discussing with Peeta what the odds are for every tribute, the latest gossip of the mentors, and how does he feel that there are only twenty-two tributes now,

Not even the panic room provides a haven from the Games, with a TV in there programmed by the government to stay on during important televised announcements and events. Like the Hunger Games.

By the time all the Tributes are in the arena, I'm in the room with a pillow covering my head. I want to drown out all the noise and the memories. Peeta's forced laughter on screen. Our own time in the arena. Prim, my mother, Gale, and District Twelve, alive one moment, then gone the next.

But then I hear the canons clearly and I have to press my fist to my mouth to keep from crying. Out of habit, I count.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

For a terrible second, I'm back in the arena and I can't find Peeta and the canon continues going off.

Seven. Eight. Nine.

I grip the pillow tighter. I'm not in the arena. And neither is Peeta.

Ten. Eleven. Twelve.

The canons stop.

I'm alive. Peeta's alive. We are not in the arena.

But Peeta isn't with me. He's in a recording studio, watching the whole thing and selling it to the Capitol and the districts as if it's the best entertainment of the year.

How is it fair that I'm hiding under pillows while Peeta is smiling through it all for everyone to see.

I get up and force myself to sit on the couch in the living room. Peeta and Caesar are on the screen, but underneath them in small squares is a live feed of the tributes, running, fighting, hiding.

Peeta's jaw is locked tight, his eyes glassy as he's reliving the arena in his head too. Caesar makes his guesses of who died in the bloodshed and for people to place their bets before the information is revealed this evening.

Still Peeta is smiling.

I could never do what he's doing. But I can sit here and watch in some form of solidarity. And as the Games continue, I write down everything I can about the Tributes. Not about how they died or what weapon they're good with.

I write about their personalities, details of their lives that Peeta and Caesar mention from their interviews. Something more than the fact that they're tributes. I even find something nice to write about the careers.

After eleven, the TV volume automatically lowers to allow time to sleep in peace. But I hardly sleep, seeing the images of the tributes this year and seeing their faces morph into others. Rue. Prim. Thresh. Foxface. Cato.

Every night, Peeta comes back after one. We hold each other tightly for a few hours before he has to go in again at five. His body trembles from the exhaustion of it all. I still don't have any words of comfort for him. I just hold him, a reminder to me that he's here with me and maybe a reminder to him too. We are not in the arena. And even if our situation is bad, at least we'll never have to go into another arena.

The Games last almost three weeks before the female tribute from District Five wins. She drowned the male tribute from Two who was already slowly dying from a snake bite.

Peeta's given two days off to recover some sleep before going back into his regular schedule.

For the first time since I've known what his sleeping habits are, he sleeps until almost noon. It worries me because he's slept twelve hours already and I would understand if he wouldn't want to leave the room at all for these two days he has off.

But that's not him. He's the one that always gets up. He's the one with more strength than me. He can always keep going, no matter how bad things get.

What am I supposed to do if he decides that he can't anymore? How can I take care of Lucy Erryn without his help? How can I keep going if he can't?

As Delia is cleaning up from lunch and I'm still at the table trying to get Lucy Erryn to eat some applesauce, Peeta finally comes out of the room. Lucy Erryn squeals as she sees him and stretches out her arms for him.

Peeta smiles at her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Why aren't you eating for Mommy?"

I stand and hand him the small bowl. "She'd probably prefer you feeding her."

He takes my place and, exactly like I said, Lucy Erryn didn't fight him as he spooned the applesauce into her mouth.

There's still shadows underneath his eyes, but at least they aren't bloodshot like when he came back after the crowning of the victor. In six months, he'll have to do this again during the Victory Tour. And then another six months will be the 77th Hunger Games and on and on.

How long will it take for this to change him?

I set aside a plate of food for him, planning to reheat it when he's finished feeding Lucy Erryn. Then I busy myself with helping Delia clean the kitchen and I try not to think of what it would take for Peeta to stop moving forward.

Instead, I think of what might help him.

He finally gets up to set Lucy Erryn in the playpen. She protests, but he gives her a few toys and her sweater blanket. It's enough to convince her to stop crying.

I set the plate in front of him when he sits again and I take the spot right across from him. He takes a few bites and I'm so glad he's nothing like me.

"I was thinking we could get some wedding stuff done today," he says after a while.

"No," I answer. "You need to rest."

Peeta's jaw clenches. "No, I..." He shakes his head a little. "I have to stay busy with something."

"Not with wedding stuff."

"Katniss-"

"Besides, I don't want to think about the wedding right now." Which is true.

He doesn't hold back a groan. "Katniss, we only have two more months. We don't have flowers yet and the cake design hasn't been approved yet-"

"First, it's your fault the cake hasn't been approved yet. You are too picky. Just pick one already."

He rolls his eyes. "It'd be better if I could make it myself," he grumbles.

"Well you can't. Second, I have something else that can keep you busy."

He looks at me with interest and watches as I get up and move to the living room. I pick up the notebook that I filled with notes on the tributes and hand it to him.

My heart beats with nervous energy as he flips through the pages, his confusion changing into understanding. I'm reminded of what happened just a few months ago, with Peeta showing me a notebook with his work in an attempt to pull me out of the darkness I had fallen into. The difference is that Peeta hasn't fallen into that dark abyss. He fights harder than I do.

He looks up once he reaches the final page. "You..." he trails off and smiles instead.

I shift uncomfortably. "I thought you could draw pictures of them. As they were before..."

He nods, looking down at the empty pages I left for him. "Like the kids they were."

Once he's done eating, he takes the notebook into the living room and sits on the couch in his usual drawing position. Back against the arm rest, knees pulled up into a makeshift desk.

I take Lucy Erryn out of the playpen and let her roam around, keeping a watchful eye as I sit on the other end of the couch while Peeta draws.

At night as he holds me, our tears mingle together. We cry for the children that have died for entertainment. For the newest tribute and the loss of her own freedom as she's now the Capitol's newest toy. For the one year anniversary of the destruction of our home, our families passing by and unable to even grieve that day because of the Hunger Games.

He doesn't bring up the list yet and I don't ask. He said he would tell me later and I know that he will when he's ready.

Peeta finishes drawing all twenty-two faces of this years tributes a week later. I clear a space in the living room bookshelf for it and for the other notebooks that are sure to come as the years pass.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a longer chapter, but I didn't want to split it up. So here it is, a long chapter! Little bit nervous about this one to be honest, but I've done a whole bunch of editing and I'm happy with what it is now, but still, nervous a little 😅
> 
> Thank you always for kudos/comments! Would love to hear what you think about this chapter!

A month after Lucy Erryn’s first birthday, Peeta and I are officially married in the eyes of the Capitol.

And according to a tradition from before the Dark Days, Peeta isn't allowed to see me for a full twenty-four hours before the wedding.

"But why?" I protest when Effie comes by to make sure he leaves the penthouse in time. I notice Lucy Erryn trying to grab a glass vase from the nightstand. I redirect her attention by handing her a block. "We've been sleeping together since the disaster last year." Except for that week they took him away for re-education. But I don't want to think about that week.

Effie clicks her tongue. "Really, Katniss, it's wonder you haven't ended up pregnant again."

My face flushes and I begin stammering. "No, that's not what I-"

"Don't worry, Effie. We've been careful," Peeta says, glancing at me as he stuffs pajamas into his overnight bag. He gives a small shake of his head as if to say it'd pointless to try and explain.

I huff and sit on the bed, glaring at Effie and her stupid clipboard.

Peeta finishes packing. He zips up his bag, sets it on the floor, and sits down next to me, our arms lightly brushing.

"It's bad luck for the groom to see his bride the night before the wedding. And we all know that neither of you need more bad luck." Effie checks something off on the clipboard and scribbles down a note. Then with a satisfied breath, she stands up and holds the clipboard close to her chest. "All right Peeta, you have ten more minutes before you need to be out of this penthouse. I'll wait for you by the elevator, to give you both some privacy for your goodbyes. And Katniss, please remember that cameras will be here in the morning. So have your coffee or tea or whatever it is that puts you in a pleasant mood."

I cross my arms and continue glaring at her.

"And that's a perfect example of what I _don't_ want to see tomorrow. Smile, Katniss! It's your wedding tomorrow! The happiest day of your life. Of _both_ of your lives."

The bar is set pretty low then.

She pulls both of us into a quick hug. "I am just _so_ happy for you both." She presses a finger to her right eye to flick away a stray tear. "Peeta, I'll see you at the elevator. Katniss, I will be here bright and early to make sure you stay on schedule."

She gives Lucy Erryn a quick cuddle, then walks out of the room. Aside from Lucy Erryn banging two blocks together, the room is quiet.

By this time tomorrow, I'll be Katniss Mellark. Tied forever to the boy with the bread.

I remind myself that things could be so much worse. I could be in Peeta's position, marrying someone that isn't even sure if they love him.

"Nothing's really going to change," Peeta finally says. "I mean, we'll both have a new accessory to our daily wardrobe and your last name is going to change, but...nothing's going to change."

Except there is going to be something else that will change.

There will be an expectation that I get pregnant as soon as possible. And by this time next year, there will be another baby playing on the floor with Lucy Erryn.

He grabs my hand, as if sensing my worry. "Let's just get through tomorrow and deal with everything else later."

That seems to be a common theme. Getting through this day or the next or the one after that. If Peeta's going to keep saying that, then he should sum it all up and say, 'Let's just get through this life.'

He squeezes my hand once, then gets up to grab Lucy Erryn. She gives a small startled yelp, but before she can start crying, Peeta's balancing her in one arm and she buries her face in his shoulder. She pulls away and squeals with a bright smile.

Lucy Erryn looks at Peeta as if he hung the stars in the sky.

He's so good, it wouldn't surprise me if he did actually actually hang a few of them.

I grab his overnight bag and walk with him to the front door.

"It's not too late," he whispers, looking thoughtfully at Lucy Erryn before turning his gaze to me. "We don't have to do this."

I purse my lips. "Yes, we do." For the second time that night, I think of the re-education course.

"We could run. Like you said before."

With a fraction of a second, I can imagine it. In the woods somewhere, with a little cabin we've built. Me, stirring a stew of fresh game cooking over a fire. Peeta showing Lucy Erryn how to paint with the nature around us.

But then there's hovercrafts and Peacekeepers and fire and the smell of roses.

"No," I say. "You would make too much noise with all your stomping around. It would scare away all the good game." A poor excuse of a smile finds it's way onto my face.

Peeta smiles a little too. He presses a kiss to the tip of her nose, then switches her into my arms and grabs his bag. "Try and get some sleep, yeah?"

"I'll probably sleep as much as you will tonight."

He huffs out a bit of air through his nose. Neither of us are getting any sleep tonight. The nightmares are going to be strong tonight.

"See you tomorrow," he says, then opens the front door and walks out.

Lucy Erryn is playing with my braid as he walks out and closes the door. "You ready for a bath?" I ask her, turning around to head for the bathroom.

The movement makes her look up and the first thing she sees is the empty space where Peeta had been standing seconds before. She jumps a little in my arms, then lets out a loud cry as she attempts to scramble over my shoulder.

That's only the beginning of one of the longest nights of my life. What's normally a quick half hour routine of getting Lucy Erryn into bed turns into two hours. She cries and fights against me the entire time. Nothing I do calms her and I end up leaving her in her crib, still screaming her lungs out.

I go to the room and squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for her to finally tire herself out and sleep.

Once the penthouse is quiet, I manage to fall asleep too, but I wake up a few hours later from a nightmare.

I'm in a field of dandelions, wearing my wedding dress. And the dress is on fire and catches on to the dandelions, burning them in seconds. Gale's in the distance, waving at me. I try and yell for him to run before the fire gets him too. Then his face turns into Peeta's and my screams get louder.

Haymitch's voice fills the air, but I can't find him. _"Question everything. Question everything. Question everything. Question everything."_

I wake up screaming, heart pounding and no steady arms to ground me back in reality.

I turn on a lamp and wipe my face. I haven't woken up screaming since before the Quarter Quell. Peeta's always there to wake me up before it gets that bad. I'm positive the noise woke up Lucy Erryn and she'll start crying any moment.

But she never does.

My chest tightens a little as I get up to check on her. She's fine, sound asleep with one leg sticking through the railing of the crib, both hands holding her sweater blanket. I sit in the rocking chair and watch her chest rise and fall with every breath.

I stay there the rest of the night, dozing off a few times, but waking up as I'm about to enter a bad dream. A few rays of sun that make it past the other tall buildings start filling the room. I can see the sky turning from a dark purple to blue as the morning sun rises.

Today I am marrying Peeta Mellark.

There's a loud knock at the front door and I inhale sharply, waiting for Lucy Erryn to wake up at the noise.

She doesn't even twitch.

I get up, closing the door to the nursery softly. It's going to be a long day for Lucy Erryn. She's going to need the extra sleep.

At the door is Effie, my prep team, and a two-person camera crew. Once they all come in, I'm swept up in hugs and kisses and exclamations of how excited they are and what a beautiful day today will be.

I do my best to smile and nod at their excited chatter.

"Katniss! This is Cressida and Castor," Effie says, pulling me a little to where they stand. "They'll be filming everything for a special broadcast they'll air right after the wedding. Isn't that exciting?!"

I don't have the energy to match Effie's excitement. I can barely manage a smile towards the man and woman in front of me.

"Don't worry about preforming. Just be yourself and pretend we aren't even here," Cressida says with a smile.

She doesn't know my whole life has turned into one big performance.

Venia has brought breakfast and a bottle of champagne. Aside from Cressida and Castor, we sit at the table to eat a quick breakfast. My stomach is in knots and I barely manage a few pieces of fruit. I keep waiting for Lucy Erryn to wake up crying from all the noise.

She never does and it gives Venia, Octavia, and Flavius time to go ahead and start on styling me into perfection. Their chatter fills the air and I'm grateful that there isn't a chance for me to say anything. I'm just trying to stay focused on looking as happy as I can.

But a familiar numbness has crept into my limbs and it's seeping into every bone and muscle in my body.

As Octavia is painting my nails, Lucy Erryn starts yelling. Thankfully, she's not crying. She's yelling more to let me know she's awake and ready to get out. With my nails wet though, Effie is the one to grab her.

As soon as she's gone, I turn to look at Cressida and Castor. Castor has a camera pointed at my nails while Cressida stands behind him, looking at something on a hologram.

"Cressida?" I say, grabbing her attention. "I would really appreciate it if you didn't get any footage of Lucy Erryn."

"Oh, but she's built for the cameras!" Flavius exclaims. "And she's going to look so cute in her little flower girl outfit."

But I don't look away from Cressida. "I know she'll be on screen during the wedding, but for right now, can you not get anything of her please?"

Cressida regards me and for a moment. It's as if she can see through everything. But then she finally nods. "Of course. Castor, you hear that?"

"Got it," he responds, not looking away from the camera still pointed at my nails.

It takes almost seven hours for my prep team to do their work. And then there's pictures that Cressida takes care of while Castor films everything, but they both respect my request of making sure Lucy Erryn isn't filmed. Right before it's time to leave, I manage to sneak away to the room for five minutes just to myself.

I hardly recognize myself in the mirror. The perfect Capitol bride. I can't see the girl that would've been fine with the toasting Peeta described over a year ago.

If I have to get married to Peeta, I would much rather prefer that toasting with only the people we wanted there. My mother and Prim. His father and maybe his brothers and mother. Haymitch would show up whether or not we invited him.

And it's so clear in my mind that I actually smile a little.

"Oh, there she is. The beautiful smiling bride."

My five minutes of peace are up. I try my best to keep the smile on my face, but it falters as I turn around to see everyone crowded in the doorway watching me.

Once we leave the penthouse, there are so many other eyes watching me. And once we get to the wedding venue, there's even more eyes watching. Our wedding is the biggest event of the year, following the Hunger Games and the Victory Tour, of course. Almost a thousand people were invited and those who weren't are watching the entire event streamed live from their TV's.

There's one more moment that I find myself alone again. Standing in front of two closed doors that will open when it's time for me to walk down the aisle to the altar where Peeta is waiting. I hold the bouquet of red roses tightly, and I almost gag as I get a strong whiff of them.

"Ms. Everdeen."

I swallow down a gasp as I look up to see President Snow standing beside me in a dark red suit and a white rose pinned to his lapel. "President Snow." There's a small tremble to my voice, but that can be blamed on nerves.

He smiles at me. At least I think it's a smile. I don't think the man has ever truly smiled in his entire life. "It's customary for the father to walk the bride down the aisle. Or at least a father figure. So I've decided to take that role upon myself." He moves to stand in front of me and pulls the light veil down over my face. Then he stands next to me again and holds out his arm for me to grab on to.

I squeeze my eyes shut and take a steadying breath. I would rather die than touch him.

But then the doors open.

The crowd stands and there's cameras flashing and music playing. Straight ahead, at the very end of the enormous hall is Peeta.

"Getting cold feet, Ms. Everdeen?"

There's a threat in his voice. And I know with any wrong move, Peeta will be the one to face the punishment.

So I let the numbness completely fill me again as I link my arm through Snow's.

Right before climbing the few steps up to the altar, President Snow lifts my veil and pulls me into a hug.

My empty stomach grumbles, threatening to throw up bile.

"You've almost done it, Ms. Everdeen. You almost have me convinced," Snow whispers.

I don't know if I'm still smiling when he pulls away. I take my place beside Peeta and try to smile.

He smiles back and grabs my hand. In his eyes I can see what he wants to really say.

_Are you okay?_

I give his hand a small squeeze. _I'll be okay._

We hold hands throughout the entire ceremony. It's the only thing that feels real.

Before I know it, the officiant is telling Peeta, "You may now kiss the bride."

Peeta smiles as he gently holds my face. Tears are brimming in his eyes and I see regret in them before he leans forward and kisses me.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Mellark!”

And in an instant, I’m no longer Katniss Everdeen.

The audience stands to their feet, clapping and cheering as Peeta and I walk hand in hand down the aisle again. This time as husband and wife.

We're ushered into a small room where hundreds of pictures are taken and Effie comes with Lucy Erryn and she's included too in her pastel green dress. Cressida and Castor are there, recording the whole thing.

The walls feel like they are closing in and it's too warm and there's too many people here. I am seconds away from my mask of happiness disappearing and revealing the scared, broken mess.

"You okay?" Peeta whispers, stilling Lucy Erryn's hands as she tugs at his bow tie.

My mouth dries as I answer him. "I can't breathe."

He looks around and motions to the door behind us. Then he walks past me and towards the photographers and cameramen gathered. "Can we get some pictures of me and Lucy Erryn out here on the balcony?"

I watch for a moment as Peeta has everyone focused on him and Lucy Erryn, their backs turned to me. He looks at me for just a second and gives a tiny nod towards the back door again.

I don't waste another second, quietly slipping through the door and hurrying down the hallway. I find the bridal suite and lock myself in the room.

I need a moment to breathe. To wrap my mind around the fact that I no longer have any control over what happens to my life. I never have ever since Prim was repeaed. And now, I'm married to a man that I don't even know if I love after all the manipulation the Capitol has done in our relationship.

I collapse onto one of the overstuffed chairs and push away all thoughts and focus only on my breathing.

"Things could be worse," I whisper to myself as I twist my wedding ring. A simple silver band with a pearl instead of a diamond.

I'm not sure how much time has passed before there's a knock on the door.

I hold back a groan. It’s probably a photographer or Effie or even Cressida that’s looking for me. I straighten my shoulders and check the mirror to make sure I’m wearing a happy smile. Then I get up and unlock the door.

Peeta's standing in the doorway

I relax a little and the smile falls from my face. "Is it time to go back out?"

He nods, but he walks into the room and closes the door behind him.

I sit on a bench and he slides to the floor next to me. There’s no room for him with all my skirts spread out.

"Effie sent me to look for you. She says if I don’t find you in five minutes, it’s going to throw off the whole schedule.”

“She’ll never change, will she?”

“I hope not.”

“So how long have you been looking for me?”

Peeta shrugs. “I figured you were here right after she sent me to look for you. I just waited outside the door for six minutes.”

“Oh no, guess that means we’ve thrown off the entire reception.” I smile as I look down to see him grinning.

“The deviled pheasant eggs are going to immediately go bad now.”

I give the tiniest of laughs, making Peeta’s grin grow even bigger.

Then we’re both quiet. Bride and groom, sitting in silence with frowns on their faces.

If only the cameras were here to capture this real moment.

“Why’d you pick a pearl?” I ask after a while. That's when I notice I haven't stopped spinning the ring around my finger.

Peeta doesn’t look at me, but he’s still smiling a little. “Because don’t you remember? If you put enough pressure on coal, it turns into a pearl.” His voice takes on a high pitched tone in an attempt to mimic Effie.

I snort from trying to hold back a laugh. “Effie’s going to be so mad if she finds out you’re still laughing about that.”

“Hey, I’m not the only one laughing.”

“Well, it’s nice,” I say, twisting the ring so I can see the pearl. “It’s a lot better than those huge diamonds I see some of these people wear. Definitely not as flashy.”

“Which is why I thought it would be perfect for you.”

I purse my lips and stare at the ring. It's too plain for Capitol tastes, but I think’s perfect. Something I wouldn’t mind having to wear for the rest of my life. “We really are married,” I whisper.

Peeta nods. “I’m sorry,”

I quickly shake my head. “No, you don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

He doesn’t look at me. So I slide off the bench and sit next to him, trying to fold back my the skirts to get as close to him as possible. “Peeta, things could be a lot worse," I say, repeating my personal reassurance.

“I know, it’s just…” He takes a deep breath before looking at me. “I love you, Katniss and I always will. I don’t expect you to feel the same way or even try to force yourself to feel that since we’re married. I wouldn’t _want_ you to do that. I wish things were different. Maybe if they were, we would’ve gotten married because you loved me too.”

I don’t say anything. Because would I be telling the truth if I told him I thought the same thing?

He shifts a little to dig something out of his pocket. He places it in my hand.

A gold locket. It's the one Effie had made for him during the Quell.

"I've been trying to figure out the best time to give it to you and then I realized I don't even know when you're birthday which we're going to have to tell each other at some point now and I just thought now would be as good a time as any." His words come out fast and I can tell he's a little nervous.

I open the locket. Inside is a picture of my mother, Prim, and Gale. My throat tightens. I wish they here. I press my lips together and try my best not to start crying. "May eighth," I say.

He looks at me with a slight frown, then nods in understanding. "April twenty-seventh."

I smile. A spring birthday. It's fitting.

Peeta gets up, smoothing out any wrinkles in his suit. “We should get going,” he says, reaching down to help me up. “Wouldn’t want the deviled pheasant eggs to get any worse.”

The reception hall is even more packed than during the ceremony. Again, everything around me feels like a dream. There are all kinds of traditions we have to do as a married couple. First drink. First dance. Cutting the cake together. Throwing my bouquet into a crowd of women. Peeta pulling the garter from my thigh and throwing it into a crowd of men.

Peeta tried to get out of that last one. Arguing that he found it demeaning for me and that, as my husband, he wanted to hold me in the highest respect and doing this in front of all these people would not be respectful.

As Peeta continued arguing with Effie over it, I looked across the room to see President Snow watching us. I turned away and looked to Peeta. "Darling, it's fine."

The affectionate name catches him by surprise. And he pauses long enough that Effie pushes us both forward to do this next tradition.

I blush and giggle for the cameras as Peeta puts his head under my skirts. Then I feel his hands on my thigh as he pulls the garter off. I jump a tiny bit, as if electricity coursed through me. By the time he pokes his head back out, goosebumps have covered my entire body and I'm blushing even more.

I can see Peeta blushing as well as he turns around to launch the garter and men reaching their hands out to grab it.

He holds out his hand and I take it as I stand up. He gives me a quick peck on the lips for the cameras and opens his mouth.

"It's fine," I quickly whisper before whatever apology can fall from his lips. We're husband and wife. This is what's expected of us now.

And then there's the toasts. Effie gives one, her voice catching as she wishes there were certain people who could be here to witness this happy event. Portia follows her, making the crowd "aww" as she tells a story of catching us out on the balcony, sitting there and watching the sun rise. Then follows it with a joke of how can anyone stand to wake up so early to watch a sunrise.

I remember that morning. What she doesn't know is that we hadn't woken up to watch the sunrise. The nightmares were bad that night and we gave up on trying to get some sleep, going out to the balcony instead to watch the city below us.

Snow gives the third and final toast. I hold Peeta's hand the entire time, hoping my face has a bright smile on it. He goes on and on about love, but the man knows nothing about love. Yet everyone in the crowd is wiping their eyes and smiling as if his words are scripture.

He finally turns to us with his raised glass of champagne. "And on behalf of all of Panem, may your love multiply and your family grow immensely."

Again, a reminder of his expectation.

I need to get pregnant as soon as possible.

After the toasts, we mingle in the crowds a little. For a second, I think I see Finnick in the crowd, a Capitolite woman I've never seen before hanging off his arm. But then I have to turn to answer someone's question and when I look again, he's gone.

Somehow, Lucy Erryn falls asleep, despite the loud noise of the crowd and the music.

"The poor dear is exhuasted," Effie says, as she pulls us away from the crowd with Lucy Erryn in her arms. "You two are scheduled to leave in a few minutes so I'll go ahead and take her back to my place."

She volunteered to watch Lucy Erryn while we stay at a hotel here in the city for our week-long honeymoon.

Peeta and I give her a quick hug and a kiss goodbye. She barely blinks up at us before snuggling some more into Effie's shoulder and shutting her eyes again.

Moments after Effie left, we were ushed out as well into a waiting car, waving goodbye to all the guests and smiling brightly for them. And once the car pulls away for the hotel, my shoulders slump in the seat and I let the mask fall away.

Peeta opens a bottle of champagne and pours out two glasses. He hands one to me as he loosens his bow tie. "To getting through the day."

I clink my glass against his and take a small sip. Except now we have to make it through tonight too.

"I was thinking," Peeta starts, straightening a little. "I know we already said some vows, but what if we made our own?"

I take another sip. "Right now?"

"Why not? I can start."

I give a small nod.

Peeta reaches over and grabs my left hand, his finger running over my wedding ring. He takes a deep breath, then speaks. "I promise to never pressure you into anything you don't want to do. To let you make your own decisions and follow whatever it is your heart is telling you to do. I promise to make good days with you and help you in the bad days. And I promise to be by your side and always be honest with you."

It's as if he's rehearsed these words. Or it's more proof that Peeta's the eloquent one.

I turn my hand a little in his, to touch his wedding ring. "I promise to try not to shut you out. And if I do, then I promise to let you back in. I promise to try and have more good days than bad. To never let you go and always be honest with you."

Peeta smiles a little, rubbing his thumb over my hand. And maybe it's because I'm tired and the champagne has started to go to my head. But I lean forward and press a quick kiss to his lips.

I slouch back into the seat and pretend I don't see the pensive look on his face. As if he's trying to decipher if that was real. I'm trying to figure out the same thing.

We're staying in the top floor of the hotel. Another penthouse, gifted to us courtesy of President Snow. I wouldn't be surprised it the place was filled with recording devices to ensure we fulfill our duty.

The thought makes me sick.

But we have to do it. Because if we don't, Snow will take Peeta away again. I can not let that happen.

I sit on the bed, trying to get my hair down and thinking of the best way to go about this. Peeta comes out of the bathroom, changed into his pajamas. “Let me help with that,” he says, sitting next to me and gently pulling out all the different things that have been holding my hair together.

It reminds me of the night before the bombings, pulling out the pins and clips carefully. His hands are still gentle and a similar threat of life and death hangs in the air.

When he finishes, he gathers all my hair and braids it. I don’t want him to stop running his hands through my hair. Because it feels so nice and I actually feel like I could fall asleep. But also because once he does, then we’ll have to get started.

But he finally pulls his hands away and I hear him shifting away from me on the bed.

I get up to put all the pins and clips away in the bathroom and to change. When I open the small bag I had packed, I can’t find my pajamas.

Instead, at the very bottom of my bag where my pajamas should’ve been, I find a small gift wrapped in tissue paper. I grab it and feel my heart sink a little as I read the note that’s attached.

_Happy Wedding Day! And an even happier honeymoon! It doesn’t surprise me that you packed your frumpy pajamas, but thank goodness I checked your bag! Your pajamas have been replaced with something that I think Peeta will enjoy a little bit more. Xoxo Octavia._

I unwrap the tissue paper and pull out…I don’t even know what to call it. It’s black thin lace held together with straps and cords and decorated with little red bows.

Even if I don’t even know how to put it on, I can tell that it leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination.

I quickly bury it under the pile of clothes in my bag and pull a robe on instead. “Peeta?” I call out, sticking my head out from behind the bathroom door. “Um, I forgot to pack pajamas. Do you have any I can borrow?”

“Yeah, of course. My bag's in there. You can grab whatever.”

I find a worn shirt and some sweatpants and slip them on. For just a moment, I inhale deeply. I can still smell the flour and spices in the clothes despite the overwhelming scent of the Capitol laundry detergent.

Peeta glances at me when I walk out of the bathroom. He bites his lip, but the glance doesn’t last more than a second. Was he expecting me to wear something like what Octavia packed?

I climb into bed and I’m not sure what to do. I consider leaning over and maybe kissing him, but then he turns off the light and he mumbles, “Night, Katniss.”

Relief and disappointment floods my body.

We spend our days doing nothing. The first thing we do every morning is call Effie and make sure Lucy Erryn’s okay. It annoys Effie, telling us we need to relax and trust her. She can take care of Lucy Erryn just fine.

But we still call every morning and I smile when I hear Effie give Lucy Erryn the phone. She's more interested in pressing all the buttons instead of respond to either of us. One morning I think she stick the phone in her mouth and Effie exclaims loudly before the call cuts off.

All of our meals are brought up to the room by Avoxes that don’t look at us. Peeta sketches while I flip through the channels on the TV, never settling on anything.

"He wants to get a tail."

My finger pauses before I can change the channel again. "What?" I look to Peeta for an explanation.

He glances up from whatever he's drawing and points to the TV screen at the actor. "I met him at work and the first thing he says to me is that he's trying to figure out how to get a tail."

"You can't be serious." I look to the man and tilt my head, trying to picture him with a tail.

Peeta nods. "They're going to do a prototype in a few months."

"What about her?" I ask, pointing to the actress.

Peeta squints his eyes a little, then gives a small nod. "She's pretty normal compared to Capitol's standards. But if you thought Effie's voice was high-pitched, you should hear her in person."

It becomes a game. Everyday, I flip through the shows and movies and guess something about them that Peeta either confirms, denies, or corrects. I come up with outlandish things and it makes Peeta laugh.

He laughs even more when I'm close to the truth.

At night, nothing ever happens. Peeta always curls up to the edge of the bed and falls asleep right away. In the mornings, we wake up tangled together, but still, nothing happens.

And my relief is always there, but the disappointment has changed into annoyance.

I have to get pregnant and I don’t want to undergo the same procedure that got me pregnant in the first place.

I want some sense of control of the next pregnancy. We just need to get it over with. Part of me is tempted to put on Octavia’s gift. I immediately feel my cheeks redden at the thought of trying to figure out how to put it on though.

Our last night, Peeta does the same thing as always. Curling up to the edge of the bed as far away from me as possible and turning off the light once I’m in bed.

I turn on the lamp on my side of the bed. “Peeta.”

He doesn’t respond.

I can’t help rolling my eyes. “I know you’re not asleep yet.”

He gives a small groan, before rolling over to look at me. “I just want to go to sleep, Katniss.”

So do I, but I keep thinking of the bruises I glimpsed on his back and stomach after his re-education course. “You know what’s expected of us.”

“I know.”

“And you know what’s going to happen if we don’t…deliver.”

He looks away and from the way his fist clenches, I know he’s remembering every detail of what he went through.

I take a deep breath and look down at my hands. “I, um…have something that maybe…it’s an outfit that you might-“

“Ugh, please don’t actually put that thing on,” Peeta groans, covering his face with his hands, barely hiding the blush on his cheeks.

I’m blushing too, about to stammer out my reasoning, when I realize that Peeta knew what I was talking about without him ever actually seeing it. “Wait, how did you know what I was talking about?”

He doesn’t answer, nor does he take his hands away from his face.

“Did you go through my bag?!” I exclaim, bolting up.

“It was an accident!” He’s sitting up too.

“How do you ‘accidentally’ go through someone else’s bag?!”

“It’s really hard taking showers with this stupid prosthetic and I slipped and would’ve fallen if I didn’t grab your bag, but then everything fell out and I saw it when I was putting everything back."

“Why didn’t you tell me so that _I_ could put everything back?!”

“Because first, I was really embarrassed that I even slipped, and second, I didn’t even stop to consider that you would be hiding something!”

“Well, next time think that maybe there’s some secrets I’d like to keep from you!"

"Oh, so then I guess our own vows of always being honest don't actually apply all the time then!"

Before I’m aware of what I’m doing, I’m reaching over and shoving Peeta.

It was only supposed to be a small shove. Nothing too hard. But it catches him by surprise and without his prosthetic on, he loses his balance and topples off the side of the bed.

It’s silent in the room. I blink a few times, processing what I’ve done, when I hear a choked sound coming from him.

For a horrible moment, I think he’s crying. But when I lean over to look at him sprawled out on the floor, he’s _laughing_.

“Are you okay?”

“No.” He starts laughing even more. “Because I love you Katniss, but I don’t want to do this, even if technically I should want to. But I can’t do it because I know you don’t want this."

I purse my lips, resting my chin on the edge of the bed and looking down at him. “But I want you to be okay and if we don’t, then you really won’t be okay,” I say softly.

His laughter dies down and he’s looking up at me with sad eyes. He reaches up to tuck back some hair that's fallen from my braid. “You and I both know that as long as we live here, we’re never going to be okay.”

“Maybe if we pretend hard enough, we’ll believe the lie.”

“What about always being honest?”

"We'll put a clause in our vows that allows this little lie."

He chuckles a little before taking a deep breath. “All right. Let’s give them what they want."

It hurts more than I thought it would. For half a moment, I could feel the beginnings of something that didn’t feel too bad though. I wanted to chase that feeling, to forget everything and allow my body to give in to pleasure.

But then I remembered the possibility of recording devices and I felt my stomach roll. I bite my lips together, refusing to let out any kind of sound that might be recorded.

And then it's over.

Peeta gets up without even looking at me and I hear the shower running. I curl up on my side and block from my mind what the Capitol has done to us and if there ever had been a chance something could’ve naturally developed between me and Peeta.

Either way, I hope that within a month’s time, I'll be pregnant.


	10. Chapter 10

When we leave the hotel the next morning, Effie, Lucy Erryn, and Delia are waiting for us as we open the front door to the penthouse .

Effie throws a handful of glitter and confetti in the air. "Welcome home!"

I make myself give a faint smile, looking to the ground where the glitter and confetti landed. Delia will have to come out and clean it up once Effie leaves. I look up and see Delia give a small shrug.

Lucy Erryn squeals as Effie puts her down. She waddles as fast as she can going straight to Peeta.

Peeta sets down our bags to pick her up, which Delia immediately grabs and takes them back to the room, most likely to unpack before either of us can protest . Peeta tosses Lucy Errynin the air and making her laugh while Effie gave a small squeak. He cuddles her close. “Don’t worry, Auntie Effie. Daddy could never let her fall.”

Effie presses her lips into a thin line. “Yes, but that still doesn’t mean you should throw a child in the air.”

I smirk, completely unfazed by Peeta tossing her. He always does it and every single time, he catches her. He’s right. He would never let her fall. “How’d everything go?” I ask Effie.

“Oh, like you two don’t already know. Calling me every single morning. Enjoy your honeymoon?” Effie asks with a teasing smile.

I know Peeta heard her question, but he’s chosen to walk away, carrying Lucy Erryn with him into the kitchen and pulling out some fruit . Leaving me to answer Effie.

Then I remember that Effie's still waiting on an answer. This time, I force a brighter smile. “Yes,” I say. And it's partly true. I never complain on days when I don't have to go out and interact with the citizens of the Capitol. But last night made things...different. If Peeta's silence towards me this morning is any  indication .

I don't know what to say to him to make things better. All morning, I've been trying to find the words, but nothing I could ever say will make any of this better.

Effie gives a small huff, already knowing she’s not going to get any more information out of me. Then she gives a little sigh and sits at the dining table. “There is something I’m a little concerned about with Lucy Erryn.”

“Did something happen?” Peeta asks around the raspberries in his mouth.

Effie shakes her head. “No, nothing happened.  With the amount that you called, you never gave us chance to let something happen,” she says, directing the small jab at Peeta with a raised eyebrow .

I sit across from her. “What is it then?”

Effie tilts her head and runs her finger along the wood grain of the table. It’s mahogany. Her favorite. “Has Lucy Erryn said her first word yet? Or at least come close to saying something?”

I shake my head. “No, but she  just  turned one a month ago. She has plenty of time.”

“But have you noticed how when she talks her own baby language, it doesn’t actually sound like she’s trying to mimic the sounds around her . It’s always the same sound for her.”

“That’s not true,” Peeta says, jumping in to defend her. “Lucy Erryn, say dada. Da-da!”

Erryn doesn’t look at him, completely focused on squishing the raspberries in her hands and staining her outfit .

“And that’s another thing. She won’t actually look at you when you talk to her.”

Now that Effie brings up all this stuff, I’m realizing she’s right.  All those times when I’ve tried to get her attention or when I’ve scared her after coming up from behind, even though I’m sure to call out her name .

“What do you think it is then?” I ask. I don't want to say what she thinks is wrong. Because there's nothing wrong with her. After everything that's happened, I refuse to believe that.

"I think  you should take her in to have her hearing checked.”

I look over at Peeta. He doesn’t look at all happy with what Effie’s suggesting. But he says, “I’ll make an appointment for her.  Maybe  they can see her tomorrow.”

Effie seems satisfied with what he says. She gets up. “Don’t you worry one bit. The doctors here are the best. They’ll figure out exactly what’s wrong and will do everything they can to correct it.” She plants a big kiss on Lucy Erryn’s cheek before waving goodbye.

“There is nothing wrong with you,” Peeta tells Lucy Erryn once Effie’s gone, grabbing her face and making sure she’s looking at him  . “I don’t care what she or anyone else says, there is nothing wrong with you. You might  just  be a little bit different.”

I rest my chin in my hand, watching Peeta reaffirm Lucy Erryn even if she can’t understand, or  maybe  even hear, a word he’s saying .

He’s a good father.

And I’m a terrible mother. Effie watched Lucy Erryn for a whole week and she figured out there was something going on with her hearing. Yet, I’m the one that stays with Lucy Erryn the most, while Peeta is at work during the day. And it was only after Effie made the comment that I put things together.

I knew I wouldn’t be any good at raising children.

Yet, here I am, trying to get pregnant again.

Peeta takes Lucy Erryn off the counter and goes to set up the appointment. I get up to wipe Lucy Erryn's hands of the squished raspberries in her hands. As I crouch in front of her, I grab her attention by  gently  lifting her chin to look at me.

For a moment, I see Prim, staring right back at me through Lucy Erryn's eyes. "No matter what they say, I'm not going to let them hurt you. I promise."

And  just  like with what Peeta said to her moments earlier, I'm not sure she can hear my promise. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to keep it.

I kiss her forehead before releasing her to find some toy to play with.

I go into the kitchen to wipe down Lucy Erryn's mess and watch Peeta in the living room as he speaks to a doctor. After a few minutes, he hands up and joins me in the kitchen. "I got her in for tomorrow morning at ten."

And that's what breaks the silence between us. We carry on like normal the rest of the day and don't mention at all what happened last night.

Since Peeta still has three weeks off from work, dedicated to spending time with his new wife, he comes with me to the appointment .

The doctor confirms what I’ve started to think since Effie spoke to us.

Lucy Erryn is deaf.

The only option is to have a device implanted in her that will correct it. Then there will be a secondary device that she will have to wear on the outside of her ear.

The doctor says that for us, she can schedule the surgery in a week.

"What if we don't want her to have a surgery?" I ask.

She tilts her head in confusion. "Why wouldn't you? She wasn't born to Capitol standards."

I notice Peeta's grip on Lucy Erryn tightens. "But she was born to our standards. And nothing's ever going to change that."

My answer surprises the doctor. But she still shakes her head. "Well, it doesn't  really  matter what your standards are. Since we've pinpointed what the problem is, it's law that we correct it."

Before I can argue further, Peeta gets up, thanks the doctor and says we'll take a look at our schedules for when Lucy Erryn can have the surgery . He holds out his hand for me and I grab it, walking out of the doctor's office.

As soon as we’re at the penthouse, I turn to Peeta. “I don’t want to put her through it.”

“You heard the doctor. It's the law that she goes through this surgery. What else can we do?” he asks, running a hand through his hair.

“They’re going to put something else in her!  Maybe  a tracking device or something that can kill her if we step out of line."

"Katniss, we don't have a choice. If we don't do this..."

He doesn't have to finish his sentence. The same thing will happen if I don't pregnant.

Re-education.

I slump down into the sofa, watching Lucy Erryn, stacking her blocks. She doesn't even realize she wasn't born to 'Capitol standards.'

For a fleeting moment,  I think  of running away again. But  realistically , we can't run away in time to avoid this surgery. We have no other choice.

“Are we doing the right thing?” I ask.

Peeta sits next to me, leaning forward as Lucy Erryn wobbles towards him, a smile on her face, and places several blocks in his hands . She then takes the blocks out of his hands and places them in mine. She makes a game of it, going back and forth between the two of us. “We’re doing the best we can,” he responds. And it’s not an actual answer to my question.

The surgery  is scheduled  one week after the initial appointment.  The doctor gives us a list of things we need to do to prepare her, surgery after-care, and what the follow-up appointments are going to look like too .

I wonder  if the surgery will even work or if they'll program whatever device they implant to only work when we're compliant . Behaving as the perfect, well-adjusted, Capitol citizens.

I don't ever want to find out.

After we schedule the surgery, I ask Delia to teach Lucy Erryn how to communicate.

She gives me an odd look before gesturing toward her mouth and shaking her head.

“No, that’s not what I’m talking about,” I say. “Isn’t there a way you communicate with other Avoxes?”

She gives a careful nod.

“Teach her. Teach us."

She hesitates before nodding again, this time her face lighting up with a tiny smile.

Delia starts teaching us basic words. Milk. Hungry. Water. Play. Sleep. Mom. Dad.

Lucy Erryn's first, unprompted sign is hungry. I'm in the kitchen with Peeta, cleaning up after him as he makes chocolate-chip oatmeal cookies. Lucy Erryn comes in, tugging on Peeta's leg as she drags her version of a cupped hand down her chest.

Peeta grins, picking her up and repeating the sign. "Hungry?"

She nods, reaching for the uncooked cookie dough.

Peeta laughs, pressing a wet kiss to her cheek as he hands her a handful of chocolate-chips.

I smile and lean over to give her a kiss as well. I knew she would catch on fast.

Delia had watched the whole interaction from the living room where she was dusting.  She smiled and wrote something down, then quick crossed it out and stuck the notepad in a drawer of the coffee table . I gave her a curious look, but didn't press it as she resumed her work and Lucy Erryn got a hold of the dough and threw some.

And that night, I swear I wasn't prying, but I was trying to find a pen that actually worked. I opened the drawer of the coffee table and saw the notepad with Delia's scratched out writing.

I squinted at the words until I could make out what she wrote.

That was my daughter's first sign too.

I had no idea Delia had a daughter. And if she scratched it out, then it meant she didn't want us to know either. So I tore off that sheet of paper and tossed it out.

Two days before the surgery, my cycle came.

It's the last thing I need to deal with.

I tell Peeta that night.

“Can we wait until after we settle this with Lucy Erryn?” he asks, sounding much more tired than he did a minute ago.

I nod. If anyone asks, we can use the surgery and  adjustment  as an excuse.

The surgery happens without any complication and they release her from the hospital the next day  . We stayed overnight with her. We both slept  maybe  two hours that night.  Both of us watching her sleep, trying not to imagine what they might have put in her head underneath those bandages . This surgery will help her hear. But at what cost?

For the next week, up until her follow-up appointment, she's fussy and nothing seems to please her. I'm glad Peeta is able to stay back from work.  I don't know how I would be able to take care of her on my own, making sure she doesn't pull off her bandages, keep her from bumping her head into anything .

At the follow-up appointment, she’s fitted for the external piece. Peeta holds her in his lap while she plays with some balls and the doctor places the devices on her head.

Peeta is the first one to speak. "Lucy Erryn? Can you hear me, honey?"

Lucy Erryn jumps, dropping the balls as her eyes dart around the room. She squirms in Peeta's lap as she stares at him.

A breathless laugh escapes his lips. "Yeah, it's me. It's Daddy."

She reaches out to try and touch his mouth while he talks.

Peeta laughs. “ I think  it worked," he says, unable to pull his gaze away from her.

I can’t help smiling too. “Yeah,  I think  your daddy has a nice voice too.”

She turns to look at me from her perch on Peeta's lap. Then she squeals, laughing and marveling at all the new sounds around her.

The penthouse is almost always noisy now, with Lucy Erryn discovering all the new sounds she missed in the first year of her life . It's enough to keep us busy to make sure she doesn't break anything. Her favorite sound though is the kitchen timer. Because that always means cookies or bread or some delicious thing is ready for tasting.

We have a week together to help Lucy Erryn adjust, then Peeta goes back to work and our lives go back into their normal routines . Peeta and I try only once more to get me pregnant. Two weeks later, my cycle comes again.

We both know we’re  just  going to have to continue until I do get pregnant.

But neither of us enjoy being the one to  initiate  the act.

And before we know it, the Victory Tour is here and Peeta’s busy with work and there’s parties and events that we need to attend and a few people have asked me to design outfits for them.

Getting pregnant is the last thing on our minds.

We’re invited to the final party at the Presidential Palace. Effie watches Lucy Erryn for us.  At the party, we mingle with people wanting to know when they can expect baby Mellark number two and expressing their sympathy at 'Lucern' being born 'wrong .'

Peeta laughs at the questions about baby Mellark number two, pulls me closer to him and says, “Oh, we’re trying!”

They laugh and I force one out too.

But when they mention Lucy Erryn, I snarl, "There is nothing wrong with her. She was born different and we've made adjustments."

Peeta doesn't try to lighten my statement, his expression hard, letting whoever dared to make a statement like that know where we both stand on Lucy Erryn .

“There they are! I have been looking for you two this entire evening!”

A man I don’t recognize comes up to us. Peeta knows him though, greeting him with a handshake and introducing me to him. “Katniss, this is Fabil, escort for District Five.”

Fabil greets me with a kiss on both cheeks. “Gorgeous as ever, Mrs. Mellark! How's baby number two coming?”

And again, we go through our routine with that question. As least he doesn't mention Lucy Erryn.

“Oh, you’re too much!” Fabil says,  lightly  swatting Peeta’s chest. I don’t like the way his hand lingers for a moment too long. Peeta doesn’t either, because he tenses and pulls back a little. “Well, I want to make sure the newest Victor said hello to you two.”

I’m  just  now realizing she’s been there the entire time, standing behind Fabil, her eyes daring as she still tries to take everything in  .  I wonder  if we looked the same way she did during our Victory Tour. Terrified and sickened by the Capitol. And I also wonder how many people actually notice.

Fabil brings her forward. I don't like how his hand wraps around her waist, lower than where even Peeta places his hands on me. It looks like he squeezes her, hands lingering much longer than they did on Peeta's chest.

The newest Victor looks even more terrified than I'm sure Peeta and I did.

“Arnia, it’s good to see you again,” Peeta says with his first sincere smile of the evening.

Fabil doesn't wait for her to respond.  He begins waving someone down and says he'll be right back for Arnia to introduce her to some other important person .

Once he's gone, she seems to relax a little. “Hey, Mr. Mellark. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Mellark.”

Peeta shakes his head. “Come on, we’re only three years older than you. Call us Peeta and Katniss."

She shuffles her feet a little. “I wanted to do what you did,” she says. “Give away some of the winnings to the other tributes families, but Fabil he…” She looks down and swallows hard.

An ugly feeling starts creeping up my spine. The way his hand lingered on Peeta, holding Arnia too close...

“Things are already going to be hard. You’ll only make them worse if you try and do anything we did. So don't," I say in a low voice. Because someone has to warn her. From what I remember, her mentors are morphlings. That’s worse than being an alcoholic. And the District Five escort reminds me of a wolf. “Make friends with Johanna Mason, the Victor from District Eight. I don’t like her, but she can help you through this.”

“Through what?” Arnia’s voice trembles.

“All of  this.” Peeta gestures around. At the party, the people, the Capitol, Snow. Wherever he is.

Arnia looks as if she’s about to cry, “I wish I died in the arena,” she whispers.

I've had that same wish since I left our arena too.

“But you didn’t,” I say instead. “So eyes bright, chin up, smile on.” I give her my first genuine smile of the evening.

She takes a deep breath, pulls her shoulder back and she smiles, even if it is a bit wobbly. But then she presses three fingers to her lips and is about to raise them high in the air.

Peeta reacts fast, yanking her hand down before she can even get it halfway up. “Don’t,” he hisses. “ Not unless  you want to survive. And since you survived your games,  I think  it’s a safe guess to say that you do want to survive.” He drops her hand and doesn’t step back until he’s sure she won’t try and raise it again.

Arnia looks like she wants to protest, but before she can, Fabil has slid back towards her. He places a hand around her waist again. “I bet the three of you could talk all night! Sharing all kinds of stories and memories about your Games. But I’m sure the Mellark’s have other people they’d like to talk to.”

I didn’t and I doubt Peeta did either. “It was nice to finally meet you,” I say with a smile. “And don’t forget what we talked about.”

“Ooo, collecting secrets already?” Fabil teases,  lightly  pinching Arnia's cheek.

I have to clench my fists  tightly  to stop myself from yanking Arnia out of his grip.

“Fabil, you know we are an open book,” Peeta says with a laugh, resting his arm across my shoulders.

We say our goodbyes and make our way through the crowds without stopping to talk to anyone.

“I want to go already,” I whisper.

“So do I, but we have to stay until at least the fireworks display,” says Peeta, dropping his arm and grabbing my hand instead .

We move through the crowds, picking at some of the food and drinking spritzers.  They  barely  have any alcohol, but by drink number four, my head is starting to feel fuzzy and Peeta’s hand is around my waist, not in show, but to help keep me on my feet .

“Okay,  I think  we need to start getting some water in you,” Peeta says, taking the fifth glass from me and replacing it with water .

But I don’t want to because the numbness from the alcohol is starting to feel good and  maybe  that means I can start forgetting things . Like the terrified look in Arnia’s eyes that reminded me of Prim and Rue.

Before I can reach for my glass that Peeta set back on the table, someone comes up from behind and my back stiffens at the voice .

“Mr. and Mrs. Mellark, a pleasure to see you’ve made it.”

We turn, Peeta still keeping a steady hand on my back. President Snow is standing right in front of us.

“Good evening, sir,” Peeta says, inclining his head a little. “This evening is wonderful, as always.”

“I’m glad to hear you’re enjoying yourself. And it seems like your wife is enjoying the drinks as well.” Snow smirks.

It makes my insides twist. “ Just  enjoying myself, like everyone else at this party,” I respond, not a hint of amusement in my voice.

Snow hums. “Yes, but I am a bit disappointed. If you’re drinking like this, then that must mean you aren’t pregnant.”

Peeta’s hand tightens a little. “No, not yet. We’ve been a little busy with helping Lucy Erryn adjust to her implants.”

“Yes, a shame she was born like that.  Normally  , we do have tests run throughout the whole pregnancy to ensure the baby will be a perfect Capitol citizen, but I supposed she fell through the cracks . You next child won't be like that, I can assure you."

My mind is spinning, trying to think of something coherent to say in defense of Lucy Erryn, but at the same time, avoid saying something that might get us in trouble .

Snow keeps talking though, and I lose my chance. "Why don’t we discuss this further at a later time. I’ll arrange for us to have lunch sometime next week. And don’t forget to bring dear Lucern.  Even with her parents being Victors of the former District Twelve, she'll need friends in high places to make it far in life  .  I think  her and my granddaughter Ophelia will become good friends if they spend enough time with each other . Don’t want her to grow up without any allies.” He doesn’t even smile as he walks away.

I don’t care what Peeta says. As soon as Snow is gone, I reach for another spritzer.

Peeta doesn’t stop me, taking one for himself too.

I drink three more before the fireworks display finally starts.  We ooh and aah and applaud with the rest of the crowd, but I can feel Peeta’s body has become rigid and he’s breathing hard through his nostrils . I don’t understand what’s happening, but as soon as the fireworks display finishes, he relaxes. I start tugging Peeta towards the valet booth so we can leave already.

Once at the penthouse, I go straight to the bedroom, waving a goodnight at Effie and letting Peeta talk to her since he's the sober one .

I sit down on the bed, yanking out the pins and clips. My arms are heavy as  I feel  the room tilting forward and back. I try to focus on getting my hair into a braid, but my hands fumble and my mind is processing this evening. Fabil's lingering touches on not only Arnia, but my husband. And then Snow's invitation to lunch. Peeta's body tensing with each exploding firework.

If I get pregnant,  maybe  that will solve these problems. People will know that they can't touch him or look at him the way I've been noticing these last few months. Nobody, not even Snow, will take him away from me.

When Peeta comes in, I've given up trying to get my hair down. He sits next to me and helps.

Once Peeta’s pulled my hair free and braided it, I don’t get up to put away all the clips. I let them fall to the floor as I turn towards him and bring his face to mine, kissing him as hard as I can.

A warmth starts building in my belly as he responds. The numbness  is replaced by  a spark and I know if it continues, that spark will grow into a flame and I won’t be numb anymore.

But then Peeta pulls back and grabs my hands. “Stop, Katniss,” he says, his voice strained.

“Why?” I whisper, pulling my hands away to reach up and start unbuttoning his shirt.

He grabs my hands again before I can even undo the top button. His grip is tighter this time. “Because you’re drunk.”

I scoff. “Does it even matter? I need to get pregnant.”

“Yes, Katniss. It matters a lot.”

“To who? No one cares about what I want. I need to get pregnant. Snow wants it. Everyone here in the Capitol. Even you want it!”

“But not like this! How many times do I have to tell you that I never wanted it like this! And don't you dare for one second think that I don't care about what you want!"

His anger takes me by surprise for a moment. Then I remember he's had enough spritzers for his control to  be loosened  a bit, but that's not the only thing.

This is a buildup of frustration and anger and hopelessness. Peeta's  just  as much trapped as I am.

Maybe  even more.

I try to find something to say, but I can’t think of anything. Then my stomach starts churning and I run to the bathroom and throw up.

Peeta is waiting for me with a glass of water and two painkillers when I come out of the bathroom. I take them and he helps me into bed. I fall asleep right away, but it’s a restless sleep. I wake up three times from shadows of nightmares. Peeta has to calm me down and remind me to breathe.

When I wake up the next morning, I hear Peeta already up in the kitchen with Lucy Erryn. I sit up and wince, feeling the room spin as a throbbing headache makes itself known. I groan, not only because of the pain, but also because of my behavior last night.

I debate hiding in the room, avoiding him for as long as possible. But it's not going to solve anything, so I get up and drag my feet to the kitchen.

Peeta smiles at me, but I can tell he didn’t sleep good last night either. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” I mumble. I go to make myself some tea, but he hands me a mug that’s ready for me.

I take a good sip and try to let my muscles relax. I give Lucy Erryn a kiss on the top of her head and make sure the headband holding her processors isn't too tight. Then I move to stand next to Peeta. “I’m sorry,” I say  softly .

Peeta glances up at me from the tomato he’s slicing. “It’s fine.”

I set the mug down and grab his hand, making him drop the knife and turn him until we're standing  directly  in front of each other .

I don't know exactly what I'm going to say, but before I can even try, Peeta starts talking.

"Katniss, I know this isn't easy for either of us and last night, I should've-"

"No," I cut him off. "I messed up. I just..." I take a deep breath. Now that I've interrupted him, he's waiting for me to finish. "I know you care.  I think  you might be the only person left in the world that does care. It wasn't fair of me to say that."

I place my hand on his chest. And it reminds me of Fabil's hand there last night. My fingers curl a little,  loosely  grabbing on to his shirt. His heart beats under my hand. For  however  long his heart continues beating, I will not let anyone take him from me.

Peeta grabs my hand and holds it in place. Juice from the tomatoes gets on my hand, but I don't complain. My focus is completely on our entwined hands resting over his heart. "What else do I have to do, Katniss, for you to always believe that?"

I don't look up at him. I want to tell him that I'm trying.  Some days are harder than others and it would be so much easier if he didn't care so much, because I am broken beyond repair . He deserves a whole lot better than me.

_"You could live a hundred lifetimes and never deserve that boy."_

I move to take a step back, but Peeta doesn't let go and I stay in place. "Tell me, Katniss. What else do I have to do?"

I drag my eyes up to his. Blue eyes filled with pain. Pain that I caused him. I swallow hard. "Let me protect you. No matter what the cost, let me protect you."

"Then you have to let me protect you too."

A scoff is past my lips before I can stop it. He doesn't understand, does he? Or  maybe  he doesn't want to understand. That we can never have those two things as long as we live in the Capitol.

But I nod in response. Because I don't want to argue with him. I don't have the energy and I'm scared of words we both might let slip.

He squeezes my hand  lightly  before bringing it up and placing a small kiss right above my wedding ring. Then he lets go to finish cutting the tomato.

In that moment, I realize that the numbness hasn’t completely taken over again.  There’s still that tiny flame from last night somewhere deep in my belly,  just  waiting for something to consume.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so this chapter ended up becoming three chapters...I'm probably going to have to update the chapter count soon, once I reorganize the outline 😅 
> 
> Thank you always for the kudos/comments! They always brighten my days so much! Let me know what you think of this chapter 💕
> 
> TW: referenced human/child trafficking

We finally get the call to confirm the date and time of our lunch with Snow. It's on a Saturday, when Peeta doesn't have work. He helps me get Lucy Erryn ready and I'm glad he's here because she woke up in a terrible mood, crying at everything and refusing to let us put her processors on.

I don't know what's wrong with her and by my fourth attempt at brushing her hair, I want to cry too and Peeta comes in to take over.

"Take a deep breath, Katniss," he reminds me. "It's just a lunch. We're going to be okay."

And I do what he says, but I can still hear the blood rushing in my ears.

At the Presidential Palace, we’re escorted by an Avox through the long and winding hallways until we’re shown into a sunroom. Snow is already sitting at the table, reading a newspaper and sipping his tea.

“Have a seat, please,” he says, folding his newspaper to watch us. His eyes land on Lucy Erryn. He doesn't look away.

I sit her on my lap and try my best to keep her out of his sight. The Avoxes in the room step forward and begin serving us. Snow starts asking Peeta about work and Peeta is able to carry the conversation easier than I ever could. Snow doesn’t ask me any questions and I’m glad. Not just because I don’t want to talk to him, but because Lucy Erryn is still fussy and squirms in my lap.

It gets bad enough that Peeta reaches over and takes her from me.

But she still whines and pushes against the table in an attempt to get off of Peeta's lap.

Snow snaps his fingers. “Take her up to the nursery,” he says to the Avox girl that steps forward.

I shake my head while Peeta tightens his grip on Erryn. “No, that won’t be necessary.”

“Nonsense. We’re trying to have a conversation and she isn’t allowing us. Besides, Ophelia is there and don’t you think it’s time she starts playing with other children?”

Reluctantly, Peeta hands Erryn to the Avox. We both watch her as she takes Erryn out of the room. I feel like I can't breath as Lucy Erryn turns around and stretches out her hands, trying to reach out for us.

But then the Avox carrying her walks out of sight and her cries fade away.

Snow clears his throat. “Now, maybe we can speak a bit more freely. Is there an issue I’m not aware of?”

“No, why would there be any issue?” My voice is tight as I speak.

“You tell me, Mrs. Mellark.” Snow leans back in his chair. “Why aren’t you pregnant yet? Is your husband avoiding his duties? Or is it you?"

My hand clenches around the fork I'm holding. “No one has been avoiding any duties.” With a quick aim, I could have this fork buried in his left eye.

“Then I don’t see what the problem is. Your egg took Mr. Mellark’s sperm so readily with the first pregnancy. We had everything tested during that procedure and everything came up perfect. So, forgive me if I’m confused as to why you aren’t pregnant yet."

Peeta sets down his fork, holding Snow's gaze as he begins to speak. “We’ve both been under a lot of stress lately. With Lucy Erryn’s diagnosis and work picked up with the Victory Tour for me and Katniss always has at least one deadline for her designs, it can make this whole thing stressful."

Snow steeples his fingers together and stares at us. Then he looks down and motions for an Avox to refill his cup of tea. "I'm sure there's been enough talk in the studio for you to understand what Miss Arnia's new role is?"

He blinks once in confusion, then all at once, realization hits him, causing his face to pale completely.

Whatever he's understood, I'm left in the dark.

"She's only sixteen," Peeta whispers.

"Yes, and Mr. Odair was fifteen."

Peeta's hand is shaking. I don't understand what they're talking about, but dread is creeping up my spine. I reach over and grab Peeta's hand. He exhales sharply and breaks eye contact with Snow.

At the movement, Snow smirks. "If your wife doesn't want to bear your children, there are plenty of other women here that would not mind."

It takes everything in me to not jump up and wrap my hands around Snow's throat, watching the life drain from his eyes. "We are trying and will continue to try until I'm pregnant." I have to force the words out of my mouth.

Snow’s eyes are back on me. “I do hope so. Until then, why don’t we make this a standing appointment? Does this time every other week work for the both of you?”

I nod in response. It won’t matter if I try and make an excuse. He’ll simply tell us to rearrange whatever it is we have.

“Wonderful. If you’ll excuse me, I have some meetings next on my agenda. An Avox will bring Erryn back down after sufficient playtime with Ophelia, then you can feel free to go back home.” He leaves, without giving even a backward glance.

Once the door closes behind him, Peeta inhales sharply then exhales quickly. Repeating it over and over and he has his eyes squeezed shut.

I recognize what he's doing.

Trying not to have a panic attack.

I grab his face and press my forehead to his. "Breathe, Peeta. Breathe with me." I take a slow inhale, then exhale slowly. In and out, counting the seconds and the breaths until he's breathing with me.

I open my eyes and see his blue eyes staring at me. Am I the only one who hears the cracking of my heart at all the pain and fear I see in those eyes? “Are you okay?” I whisper.

He takes another few deep breaths before giving a small nod.

My hands fall from his face and grab his hands. And the dread hasn't gone away. "What was Snow talking about?"

Peeta swallows hard, glancing at the Avoxes that are still there. They aren't looking at us, heads down, eyes focused on the ground. But I wouldn't doubt they're listening. "I'll explain at the penthouse."

I don't think I'm ready to learn whatever it is he's going to tell me. But I have to know. If we're doing this together, I have to know. And I remind him of that. “We’re going to get through this. Together. Remember?”

He nods again, but his eyes are distant.

We might be in this room for hours. I can't stand to see Peeta like this. So I grab a bread roll, take a bite, and then hand it to him. “What kind of spices do you think they used for this?”

Peeta takes a bite mechanically. He chews for a bit before listing off spices and herbs that I’ve never heard of. I ask him to describe them and he does. In detail.

It's a small distraction but it helps pass the time while we wait for Lucy Erryn. And I see some light coming back into his eyes.

Almost an hour passes before the same Avox girl from before comes back with Lucy Erryn, sound asleep. We don’t waste any time in getting out of there.

Lucy Erryn is still asleep when we get back to the penthouse. I lay her down in her crib and when I come out, Peeta’s sitting at the dining table, head down, eyes tracing the wood grain of the table.

I warm up some tea for both of us, adding a little bit of sugar in mine and leaving his black.

He takes the mug when I slide it over to him. He doesn't drink it, wrapping both his hands around the steaming mug.

I watch him from across the table. I'm scared to ask if he's going to explain things. I wish I could live in blissful ignorance. But that's never going to be a possibility.

A few minutes pass before he finally takes a sip. When he sets down his mug, he starts explaining.

"There's this list of Victors..."

And it's the same list Johanna talked about all those months ago.

The more he explains, the more I want him to stop. The dread morphs into disgust and rage. These people that go to these parties, that hug us as if we're old friends, laughing at the masks we put on for them.

They're _monsters_.

The tea has gone cold by the time Peeta finishes.

He doesn't look at me, his eyes focused on the cold tea in front of him. "I would rather go through another re-education course," he says so softly I have to learn forward to catch.

My fingers wrap around his. "That's not going to happen. We'll have another baby. And nothing is going to happen to you." I take a deep breath and ask, "Is tonight okay?”

Peeta finally looks up at me. The look in his eyes is too close to hopelessness. He gives a slow nod.

We're both saved from having to say anything else. Because Lucy Erryn wakes up and she's yelling and babbling and announcing in her own words that she wants out of the crib.

Two months later and I'm still not pregnant. Our strategy is to try for a full week, then wait. A week is all we can manage, because once it's over, Peeta can't sleep in the same bed with me. The morning after our third night, I ask him before he goes in to work.

He looks at me with exhausted eyes that mirror mine. "I can't," he says softly. "Not when we're being forced to like this. I wish it could've happen because _we_ wanted it."

"I wish that too," I say, matching his tone.

His shoulders slump a little and it looks like he wants to something more. But he shakes his head and says, "I'll see you this evening."

And the lunches with Snow continue and Lucy Erryn becomes more and more open with him. It terrifies me when at our fourth lunch she runs into his arms with a huge smile on her face.

A few days later, when I'm sure, both Peeta and I are on the verge of collapsing and never getting up due to the exhaustion and stress, Lucy Erryn says her first word.

Peeta comes back from work, loosening his tie and raking his hand through his hair as soon as he's through the front door. Lucy Erryn claps and taps her thumb with her hand open against her forehead while yelling, "Dada!"

We both stop and stare at her.

"Dada!" she yells again, this time running towards him and stretching her arms up.

Too much time has passed since I've seen a smile that big on Peeta's face.

Six words later and she finally says "Mama."

But then her seventh word is "Ampa." And she says it during our eighth lunch with Snow, stretching her arms out towards Snow.

_Grandpa._

I have to leave, finding a restroom and vomiting everything I just ate.

A week later, on my birthday, I take a pregnancy test.

I'm terrified to look at it. So I wrap it in toilet paper and take it into the kitchen where Peeta's been since sunrise.

He looks up at me and smiles, setting a freshly made cheese bun on a plate and offering it to me with a "happy birthday."

I trade with him, taking the plate and handing him the test.

He unwraps it while I nibble on a small piece of the bread. A slow breath escapes his lips. "It's positive."

I take another bite of the cheese bread, but it tastes like ash now.

A second later, Peeta's pressing me into his chest. I clutch his shirt in my fists and feel my shoulders shaking with sobs.

I'm pregnant again. And it shouldn't be like this. It should be a happy moment. Peeta lifting me into his arms, spinning me around and we're both laughing and maybe crying too, but they're happy tears.

Not these joyless ones that are streaming down my face.

That following Monday, the pregnancy is confirmed by Dr. Pythian. And the news spreads like fire. By the end of the week, all of Panem knows that I'm pregnant.

It's a different experience this time around. The lunches with Snow have been replaced by check-ups with Dr. Pythian. Always making sure the baby is growing correctly and there's no issues.

He gives me strict diet and a prescription of prenatal vitamins during the first check-up. "And with the frequency of the appointments, we can catch any mistakes ahead of time and correct them."

I don't bother hiding my scowl as I wipe off the gel from my flat stomach. But I don't have the energy to argue with him. It doesn't look like Peeta has the energy for it either, judging by the way he pinches the bridge of his nose and takes several deep breaths.

Dr. Pythian doesn't seem to pick up on the tension at all as he confirms the date and time of my next appointment.

The penthouse is quiet as we walk in after coming back from Dr. Pythian's office. Effie is watching Lucy Erryn for the afternoon and there's still about two more hours left before she comes to drop her off. I need to do something to distract myself. But I can't stand the idea of being alone.

Peeta's already in the kitchen, uncovering some bowls of dough that he left to rise before sticking them in the oven.

I grab a notebook and pencil and sit at the kitchen bar, right across form where he's working, and start sketching out a new design.

We both work on our different projects in silence. I sketch out a basic form of a dress before I'm distracted by Peeta. He hasn't said or done anything to purposefully grab my attention, but I can't stop watching him.

I watch his hands knead out the dough and shape them into loaves, the movement showing the muscle definition in his arms. His face is clear of any emotion, focused on the dough and the flour and making sure everything has come together right.

I could watch him all day making bread. And a tiny warmth begins budding in my stomach.

He sets the dough in the pans and covers them again. He glances at the clock, then leans over the counter to look at my notebook. "New design?"

I look to my own work and realize I haven't done anything but draw out the form of the dress. "Yeah, but I'm not sure where I'm going with it."

He walks over to sit next to me and takes the notebook from me. "What are you thinking?"

I start sharing vague details and he puts them on paper. Seeing it makes it easier to come up with a better idea. We only pause once in the work for him to put the bread in the oven. He asks about color, the texture of the fabric, should there be bows or lace and I explain the different types of necklines and why I won't ever make something with shoulder pads.

By the time Effie drops off Lucy Erryn, I have a new dress I can begin working on. Peeta takes Lucy Erryn into the living room while waiting for the bread to finish. He sits on the floor with her in his lap and starts reading a book to her, signing the words he knows.

But the cardboard book about counting the windows in the skyscrapers doesn't say the story he's telling her.

"Once upon a time, there was a forest filled with trees as far as the eye could see. Squirrels running through the branches and the birds flying wherever they wanted. And they were happy and safe and free..."

The tiny warmth grows and fills my chest.

I spend my days waiting for this warmth to disappear. Because it's nice and feels good and I know from experience things like this never last in the Capitol.

But it doesn't go away.

Not even as this year's Hunger Games approaches. Two weeks before the Opening Ceremony, I go to Tigris' shop for some lace to finish the dress Peeta and I worked on.

A small bell rings as I walk into the dim shop. Just like all the other times I've come here, it's empty and I'm left wondering again how Tigris manages to keep this place open.

I take a few steps in before I see Tigris come out from a back room. "Katniss, what can I do for you?"

She doesn't congratulate me on the baby or ask why I haven't brought Lucy Erryn or why I didn't wait for Peeta to get off of work so we could come together. I'm grateful for it. I explain the green lace I'm looking for. She nods and leads me past several racks and bursting closets to a wall of shelves in the back. She pulls out out a box from the bottom and dumps out the fabric onto a table.

I start looking through it, finding every color _but_ green.

"So you're pregnant. Congratulations."

Oh, there it was. I plaster a smile on my face and press a hand to the tiny bump that's almost impossible to notice. "Thank you. We're very excited."

She tilts her head, her whiskers twitching. "Congratulations on getting pregnant so quickly again too."

I swallow hard. I would've preferred it happened after our first try. But before I can say anything, Tigris continues.

"It takes people here much longer, if it's even possible."

Now it's my turn to tilt my head. "What do you mean?"

She doesn't answer my question. Instead, she says, "When the time comes, don't you dare let your husband leave your side. Question everything."

My heart jumps to my throat. Why would she think Peeta would leave me? Does she realize she's repeating Haymitch's last words to me? "What are you talking about?" I whisper.

She turns her back to me and pulls out another box. At the very top of the pile in the new box is the green lace I'm looking for.

"How many yards?" she asks with a smile.

"Two," I say, barely able to keep my voice from shaking.

She hands me the cut lace and charges me. I want to press her for more information, but I can tell I'm not going to get anything out of her. She waves as I leave the shop and calls out, "Come again soon."

I dwell on her words the entire day. It's enough for me to smother that growing warmth. I try to think of a scenario where she and Haymitch might have interacted for her to repeat that phrase. But I can't think of anything and I can only assume it's a coincidence. Either way though, she was warning me of something. Of what, I'm not sure yet. Was she referring to the labor? Or something else that's coming. Whatever it is, I know I can't let Peeta out of my sight.

And that night, Peeta falls asleep first. He's trying to get as much sleep as he can before the Hunger Games starts and his schedule allows only three house of sleep. I watch him, with Tigris' words ringing in my ears. I don't have any plans of waking him up, but I need to _feel_ that he's next to me.

I lightly place my hand on top of his open palm, my fingers tracing down to his wrist where I can feel the steady _thump thump_ of his heart.

I count his pulse and my eyes start to drift close, but then Peeta's shifting and his fingers wrap around mine.

"You okay?" he mumbles, not opening his eyes.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I whisper back.

He doesn't respond and the only way I know he actually registered my words is the gentle squeeze he gives my fingers. Then a soft snore escapes his lips as he falls asleep again.

Peeta is here and whatever Tigris was talking about, I'll never let him leave my side. And I know he won’t leave either. Not in the moments that matter. The warmth I've suppressed surges through my chest.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is nothing like unwinding at the end of a stressful day by writing/editing fics that I really love writing. And I have just really been enjoying writing this fic! 
> 
> I hope all you lovelies enjoy this new chapter! Thank you always for the kudos/comments! Let me know what you think of this next chapter 🤗💕

Lucy Erryn sits on my lap, sucking her thumb and glaring at everything around her. I ignore the looks and whispers from all the other people in the presidential booth. The plan was to leave Lucy Erryn with Effie during the Opening Ceremony. But a special invitation from Snow to sit in the presidential booth again that included Lucy Erryn's name made that plan impossible.

Everything was fine at first and Lucy Erryn clapped and squealed at all the colors and Peeta's face next to Caesar's on the huge screen. Ophelia and her parents showed up as well and when Lucy Erryn saw her, she clapped and ran towards her, greeting her with a loud "Ophi!"  
  
Despite Ophelia being Snow's granddaughter and the chances of her growing up to be just as cruel as him, I smiled at seeing Lucy Erryn happy. But then I see the man and woman sitting behind Ophelia that I assume are her parents, giving Lucy Erryn disdainful looks and pointing and shaking their heads at the processors I've tried to hide under her braided hair.

If I had a knife, blood would be pooling around their ankles by now.

But as I try to hide my glare, I notice that Ophelia's hair is thick and black against olive skin while both her parents have pale skin and blonde hair. Ophelia looks nothing like her parents.

Lucy Erryn doesn't last long playing with Ophelia. The Capitol anthem and the music and drums starts. Everyone in the stadium stands, cheering and yelling and clapping for this years tributes.

My eyes aren't on the chariots. They're focused on Lucy Erryn as she starts crying and pulling at her processors. While everyone has their attention on the Tributes, I get up, grab Lucy Erryn, and settle her on my lap. She still tugs at her processors and begins shaking both fists by her ears.

_Loud_.

By the time the tributes from District Four are coming out, I've taken off the processors. Lucy Erryn's cries turn into sniffles and she refuses to watch the rest of the parade.

I don't blame her.

And once all the tributes have come out, I walk out, not waiting to hear the announcements from Peeta and Caesar.

The hallway outside the presidential booth is relatively quiet, drowning out the music and the crowds. I try putting the processors back on, but Lucy Erryn shakes her head and pushes away from me.

I don't force her to wear them. Instead, I set her on the floor and let her roam the hallway while it's still empty. She moves to the window that's looking out the city and presses her hands against the glass.

As soon as I put her down, I see two figures ambling their way towards us. I'm about to pick up Lucy Erryn again, but then they come closer and I see who it is.

Johanna Mason and Annie Cresta.

I understand why Johanna's here, but Annie? From what I've heard, she's never been a Mentor. Not when they have Finnick.

Then two thoughts invade my mind. One, maybe it means Finnick can be left in peace this year and not have to worry about 'clients'. Two, what if Annie's name made it to the list?

"Oh, look who it is. Katniss Mellark. Didn't feel like sticking around to listen to your better half giving announcements?" Johanna asks when she notices me and Lucy Erryn.

I keep my face neutral as I answer her. "Lucy Erryn was getting overwhelmed with all the noise." Then I turn my attention to Annie. "Hi. We haven't officially met. I'm Katniss."

Annie gives a trembling smile, her eyes meeting mine for only a second before her attention focuses on my baby bump and Lucy Erryn. She starts shaking and her breaths come out in pants. She starts mumbling something about Finnick and someone else called Kelvan.

Johanna loudly clears her throat. "Annie, why don't you see what the Mellark kid finds so interesting outside."

Annie looks at both of us, like a child asking for permission. Johanna gives her a small nudge forward and Annie settles next to Lucy Erryn on the floor. I watch and Annie doesn't seem to mind that Lucy Erryn can't understand her right now. Lucy Erryn glances at her, then points to something outside. And the two sit there in silence, staring at the sun shining down on the Capitol.

Johanna roughly grabs my arm and pulls me away, just out hearing distance. "Why are trying to throw Arnia at me?" she hisses.

I frown at her, trying to catch up with her thought process. Then I remember the advice I gave Arnia at the beginning of the year. "She needs someone to help her out."

"I'm not a mentor for Victors and I don't do _friends._ "

"Then what are you doing with Annie?"

"Helping out a friend," she growls.

"I thought you-"

She jabs a finger in my face, not letting me finish. "This is different."

"How? And why is Annie even here? Where's Finnick?"

Johanna's laugh is sharp and humorless. "Is it really as blissful as everyone says it is? Being so ignorant to everything that's going on past your glass prison?"

"Maybe if people would give me some damn information, I wouldn't be so ignorant."

"It's not my fault you're not asking the right questions." Her eyes move down to my stomach and then to Lucy Erryn. There's something in that look, it reminds me of longing. But this is Johanna Mason, and placing that emotion with her doesn't make sense. "Maybe it's better for you to stay so ignorant."

Her last statement is softer as she continues looking past my shoulder at Annie and Lucy Erryn. I follow her gaze and see that Annie has managed to convince Lucy Erryn to sit in her lap. While Lucy Erryn continues looking out the window, Annie has her head bowed, face pressed into Lucy Erryn's hair.

For a moment, I think Annie's crying.

Then there's a loud chatter and the crowds are coming out into the hallways, ready for the next event.

Johanna moves past me, coaxing Annie back to her feet. I follow and pick up Lucy Erryn.

"I'll do what I can for Arnia," Johanna scowls. "But don't think I'm doing it as a favor to you." Then she pulls Annie back down the hallway as Annie waves goodbye to us.

They disappear into the crowds and I stay in my spot. Peeta and I agreed beforehand that this is where he would meet us once he could leave the media booth. I make sure my mask is firmly in place as people pass by, smiling and talking to me as they make their way out of the stadium.

Peeta finally comes by half an hour later, after the crowds have dwindled.

In the car, he asks if I happened to see Finnick.

"No. He didn't come this year. Annie did."

"Oh," Peeta says, his brow furrowing a little. "Well, it's understandable I guess."

I turn to look at him. "Why do you say that?"

Peeta frowns as he glances at me. "Because of what happened."

I blink in response.

"Did you leave after all the tributes came out?"

"Yeah, Lucy Erryn was overwhelmed."

Peeta purses his lips. He comes up to a red light and looks at me. "Mags passed away a few weeks ago."

I swallow hard and think about what Johanna said. About so much going on that I don't have a clue about. And it makes me wonder if Mags died from natural causes. "Something else happened too, though, didn't it?"

Peeta nods and the light turns green. "But I don't know what."

Neither of us find out anymore information. Peeta's too busy with work and trying to keep his face bright for the cameras. And Johanna's words to me about blissful ignorance and it being better swarmed in my head along with her other words of not asking the right questions and Tigris' and Haymitch's words of 'question everything'.

As I watch the Games, these children murdering one another for the Capitol's entertainment, I wonder what would even change if we asked the right questions? Questions like who is Kelvan? What did Mags really die of? Why does it take so long for people to become pregnant here in the Capitol? How did Ophelia end up with jet black hair when her parents are both blond?

But I can't bring myself to voice any of these questions. Because watching these tributes murder each other and knowing some of their mentors are doing unspeakable things to get them sponsors reminds me of my place.

As one of the two survivors of District Twelve, the place that was destroyed for its involvement with the Rebels. We are here because of the mercy of President Snow.

The warmth inside of me wavers and diminishes as I think of all the things that can go wrong by asking questions.

Re-education. The list. Lucy Erryn in the arena.

So I keep the questions to myself, not even daring to write them down. And I focus on the tributes, writing their stories in a notebook and leaving space for Peeta to draw them as they were before.

Innocent children.

The games last only a week this year. One of the shortest in recent history. The male tribute from Ten wins, after bludgeoning the other remaining tribute, the male from One. As the anthem begins playing, the tribute stands up and stares into the cameras. He wipes blood across his brow, then presses three fingers to his lips and raises them high in the air.

The feed quickly cuts off to show Peeta and Caesar talking about the newest Victor.

A month later, after a second notebook of tributes is added to our shelf and Peeta goes back to his normal schedule, Delia comes back from the store with only vegetables and fruit.

I frown a little as I looked through the bags for the ground beef I asked for.

“There's no ground beef,” Delia signs.

“Really?”

She nods. “Actually, there's no _meat_.”

District Ten provided all the meat.

Could this be a sign of unrest still happening in the districts?

A few days later, Peeta tells me over our dinner of roasted vegetables that he’s been asked if the production studio could do a special on ‘A Day in the Life of the Mellark’s’.

And when he says he’s been asked, I know he means he’s been ordered.

“When?’

“Next week.”

I give a frustrated sigh. “Not like we have a choice, do we?”

Peeta gives me a helpless shrug in response.

I'm not sure if he'll have the answer, but I still ask, “Is it because of the meat shortage?”

Peeta purses his lips and gives a tiny nod. "It's supposed to be an encouragement to all of Panem that these days will pass."

And I'm sure the other reason is to calm whatever rebellion is cropping up in the districts. Once again, we are going to be used as a testament to the goodness of the Capitol. Pieces of a never-ending game of chess.

If we mess up, there will definitely be some kind of punishment.

They film on a Saturday, choosing the day I have to go for an appointment. Another thing for them to document.

I’m in the nursery, getting Lucy Erryn dressed for the day when I hear Peeta open the door for the crew. I arrange the bows on her head to hide her processors. Out of sight, out of mind. I don't have the energy today to argue with Capitolites that there's nothing wrong with her.

I come out of the nursery, balancing Lucy Erryn on my hip. Caesar and Peeta are in the dinning room and the camera crew is in the living room setting up. It's Cressida again, with Castor and two other men I'm not familiar with. She sees me and gives me a quick nod and smile in greeting, before going back to setting up and talking to her crew.

When Caesar sees me, he gets up and gives me a hug and kiss on both cheeks. He coos over Lucy Erryn and is in awe of how much my stomach has grown since I’ve last seen him.

“Do you mind if I hold her for a moment?” Caesar asks.

“She actually woke up fussy this morning. Maybe later,” I say, pressing Lucy Erryn’s head to my chest. Which isn't completely true, but Lucy Erryn cuddles close to me and plays with my braid.

It’s a rare moment, considering she’s always reaching out for Peeta. I bite my lip to keep from smiling as I feel that flame spreading again, from my chest to my limbs. Peeta notices too and while Caesar goes to talk with Cressida, he looks at me with a smile.

I can’t help smiling back.

“Oh, isn’t that adorable! Please tell me someone’s capturing this moment?”

The moment is broken by Caesar’s voice and I move to sit next to Peeta. “Oh don’t worry, Caesar, there’ll be plenty of moments like that for you to capture today,” I say in a teasing voice.

Caesar claps his hands in delight as he stands in front of us with Cressida next to him. Cressida tells us what the day will look like. The recording will be live as they follow us through a normal day: meals, work, taking care of Lucy Erryn, going to the doctor for a check-up. We'll have small commercial breaks and there will be points during the day when we’ll be pulled aside for some interview questions. For the most part, we’re supposed to carry on with our day as if they aren’t even there.

“We’ll be like flies on the wall,” Caesar adds.

Except they won’t and everything about our day today has to run smoothly. We can't afford for our masks to slip for one second.

I give them a tour of the penthouse while Peeta sets Lucy Erryn down in her playpen to get breakfast ready. The room where Peeta and I sleep is last. Caesar walks in, asking about different objects in the room while Cressida follows behind with her cameramen. And once they finish exploring the room, Cressida makes a motion to cut to commercial.

The cameras are lowered and Caesar leaves the room, following the smell of roasting potatoes into the kitchen with the cameraman close behind. I'm about to walk after them, but then I notice Cressida looking at something on the nightstand.

The gold locket Peeta gave me on our wedding day.

I forgot to put it away.

"Is this your family?" Cressida asks as she picks it up and looks at the pictures.

I smile, hoping it's the right balance between sadness and fondness. "Yes. My mother, Prim, and...my cousin, Gale."

Cressida stares at the pictures, her finger ghosting over the image of Gale. "Your cousin is handsome."

I swallow hard, wondering what she's trying to imply. "I guess. That's what all the other girls used to say."

And it looks like she's smiling a little before closing the locket and setting it back down. Then she finally walks out of the room and I follow her.

In my mind, I try not to dwell on how she referred to Gale in the present tense.

Breakfast is ready and we eat and talk and laugh with Caesar. I make a point to rub my stomach randomly during conversations. Something I never do because even with my growing stomach, this pregnancy doesn't seem real.

Caesar loves the action.

“Have you felt the baby move yet?”

I shake my head. “Not yet, but it should be any day now.”

I have my appointment with Dr. Pythian before lunch. We drop Lucy Erryn off with Effie again and Caesar does a quick interview with her, asking what it's been like helping us adjust to our new lives.

"Oh, I don't think any other couple deserved this as much as Peeta and Katniss," Effie says with a smile. "I mean, they both went through so much during their childhood and their time in the arena. It's nice to see them settled here in the Capitol where they don't have to worry about anything ever again and can be happy and have a family."

Effie's words remind me that even though she is one of the few people I don't mind spending time with, she will always be a Capitolite first. She could never understand that being happy isn't going to happen for us.

Dr. Pythain does a sonogram on my stomach. Castor films the screen, allowing all of Panem to see the baby even before it's even born.

"What's the gender?" Caesar asks.

Peeta stops Dr. Pythian from answering. "We want it to be a surprise."

Caesar laughs. "Oh come now. Are you really going to make us wait to find out if it's a boy or girl?"

"Yes," I say with a tight smile.

Caesar shakes his head. "Well, I suppose this is one of those quaint traditions from the place you grew up in that you can't let go of."

Peeta pulls the attention away from the baby's gender and tells the story of when his mother was pregnant with him. How she wanted a girl so badly after having his two older brothers.

"Imagine her surprise when she gave birth to me," he says with a laugh.

Caesar laughs too and they begin joking as we leave the doctor's office.

We're in separate vehicles, the camera crew and Caesar in one vehicle and me and Peeta in our own. And for the few minutes of peace, I hold Peeta's hand. I know how much he hates thinking of his mother. Much less talking about her and her disappointment in him.

At my touch, Peeta lets out a long sigh. "We're halfway done," he says quietly.

A reassurance not just for me, but for himself as well.

We pick up Lucy Erryn and go back to the penthouse to get started on making lunch. Lucy Erryn stays in her playpen while Peeta and I work together in the kitchen.

“Don’t you have an Avox that can do this all for you? It's something I've been wondering all day,” Caesar says as I’m washing a cutting board while Peeta stirs the chopped vegetables in the pan.

“Yes, but we generally don’t need her help on the weekends when I’m home,” Peeta answers. “Katniss and I prefer cooking for ourselves. During the week though, we really appreciate her help. Katniss can work on her designs, while De...the Avox takes cares of Lucy Erryn and does the housework.”

Caesar nods. “It’s truly a horrible thing though when these children start getting more attached to the Avoxes. A lack of explanation on the parents part, I believe. They should teach their children from early that they are Avoxes. Not people.”

I bite my tongue, thinking of all the times I’ve sat with Delia at the dining table and shared a meal. Working with her in the kitchen or sitting down in the living room as we watched a movie while I waited for inspiration to come on a new design. And all the lessons she's given us to communicate better with Lucy Erryn. If I said any of this, it wouldn’t be enough to say that coming from Twelve we’re not used to have Avoxes.

We are Victors and people living in the public eye. We should know better.

An hour after sunset, I put Lucy Erryn down for the night and there’s one last interview before the day-long show wraps up. In the living room, I sit next to Peeta on the couch, leaning into him and resting a hand on his knee. Automatically, he puts and arm across my shoulders and pulls me in just a little bit closer.

Caesar settles in a chair right across from us that we brought in from the dining table. “So. It’s been a little over two years now since the Capitol has become your home. How are things?”

“Great,” Peeta responds.

A little too quickly because Caesar does raise an eyebrow, seeming to ask, _Really?_

“Things are great,” I say, backing Peeta's answer. “The Capitol has been so welcoming and it’s become home for us.” The words are bitter in my mouth, but I know what it will mean if I’m the one to say them.

The rebels might actually stop and Snow won’t harm Peeta or Lucy Erryn.

“That’s wonderful to hear. And now you’re having another baby and you seemed to have moved on completely from your past life. Except for letting go of some of your odd traditions like not wanting to know your baby's gender before it's born. Which, by the way, your doctor might have told me the big secret!"

The laugh that escapes my lips is nervous. "Really, Caesar. We don't-"

"It's a boy!"

In my head, I'm reminding myself over and over that this is all live. I have to watch my reaction.

Judging by Caesar's frown, my expression must not seem happy or excited at all.

Before I can correct my expression, Peeta's hand is cupping my face and turning me towards him to kiss me. The way he holds my face hides my expression from the cameras. When he pulls back, he smiles at me and the cameras. "It's a boy," he repeats.

But I see the plea in his eyes. To remember the cameras.

His hand presses against my stomach and I automatically cover it with my own.

The kiss has given me enough time to recover and keep my happy mask firmly on. But in the back of my mind, I register that this is the first time in the pregnancy that Peeta has touched my stomach.

I turn to Caesar, my hand still covering Peeta's and holding it firm on my stomach. "Oh Caesar, I'll get you back for ruining the surprise." My voice is teasing, but only Peeta and I know my words are a real threat.

Caesar laughs and holds his hands up in mock surrender. "What can I say? I'm terrible at keeping secrets!"

We laugh and I imagine pushing him over the balcony railing.

Caesar clears his throat and shakes his head in a show of regaining his composure. "Now, after all this time living here, is there anything that you regret? Something you wish were different?”

_Everything_.

Peeta answers instead. “I wish our families were still alive.”

Caesar tilts his head in sympathy. “Yes, of course. But you have your own family now. I think they would be okay with you moving on.”

“That doesn’t mean we don’t miss them every day.”

I give Peeta’s hand a small squeeze, reminding him to only say positive things and that we are live. I already made a mistake with how I reacted a few moments ago. We can not afford another one.

He clears his throat a little. “But we are happy and I know that they would be happy for us too.”

“Well, that’s good. I’m glad that-“

“I do wish we could see it though.”

Caesar blinks a little and I feel my heart rate spike. What is he _thinking_?

“See what?”

“Twelve. The destruction the Capitol left behind.”

Caesar gives a small chuckle and I know it's forced. “Yes, but it was necessary. Remember what the rebels did?”

“I know. But that was still our home.”

“But this is your _new_ home.”

“Of course, but nothing’s ever going to change that our first home was Twelve and it always will be Twelve. If we had the choice, we would go back to Twelve. Our first home.”  
  
I squeeze Peeta’s hand a little harder. He moves his hand to where he's holding my fingers and I can't squeeze anymore.

Before Caesar can say anything, I speak up. “But that doesn’t mean we aren’t grateful for everything the Capitol and President Snow has done for us. Every day we learn something new of the Capitol’s goodness.”

The answer seems to satisfy Caesar. He wraps up the interview and they pack up. Within half an hour, they’re gone.

Once the door closes behind them, I spin around to Peeta. “What was that?” I hiss.

"He had no right to tell us the gender over live television like that," he says in an angry tone he hardly uses.

"No, but that doesn't mean you could say something like that!"

Peeta doesn’t look at me as he walks past me into the kitchen to make some tea. “It’s fine,” he grumbles.

“No, it’s _not_.” I move to stand in front of him, taking the tin of tea out of his hands and making him look at me. “Do you want to get yourself killed?”

He smiles wryly before turning away from me again. “They aren’t going to kill me. Not while the Districts are rebelling. They need both of us alive and _happy_."

“Exactly! They need us happy and what you just said on camera was the _opposite_!”

"Oh and what about your great reaction to hearing it's a boy?! You looked like you could've killed Caesar right then and there! How would you have recovered if I hadn't pulled your face away from the cameras?!"

"Well excuse me for not being a great actress for the cameras!"

"Exactly! You _aren't_ good at acting which makes everything about today even more..." Then he snaps his jaw shut and turns away again. "Forget it," he mumbles.

His statement takes me by surprise. Because he isn't the one that walks away from conversations like this. I am. But somehow the roles have been reversed and I do what Peeta would do.

I step closer to him and press my palm against his cheek. "Peeta?"

He glances at me for a moment before looking down. And in that glance, I can see the tears that have formed and it makes my own eyes water.

I hate seeing him in pain like this.

"I'm just tired, Katniss," he whispers, still looking at the floor. "I'm tired of having to pretend all the time and act like we're actually grateful to the people that destroyed almost everything we love. I'm tired of not having a say on whether or not to have more kids with you. A simple thing of waiting until after the baby's born to find out the gender taken away. And all the kisses from today and every time we're in public...I'm tired of wondering why it doesn't feel like you're acting."

I swallow hard as I look at him. Once again, he's left me at a loss for words. It's something I've never considered. Why these kisses between us have come more naturally. Why the flame inside me jumps every time we do kiss.

What would it mean to him if I actually started kissing him on a daily basis, without an audience? Would he think it’s simply out of pity, habit, reluctant acceptance of our forced relationship?

What would it mean to me and my growing flame?

I bring my other hand to his face and I make him look at me. Before he can protest, I press our lips together.

The flame spreads all the way to my fingers and toes and I feel the warmest I ever have since I can remember.

I pull back after a few moments and stare at him, trying to decipher all the emotions on his face.

“Katniss, you don’t have to,” he says, grabbing my hands and pulling them away from his face. “The cameras are gone.”

“I know,” I respond. And maybe this can be a good thing in my life too. I kiss him again and pull back after several seconds.

Not happy, but...

Good.

He doesn’t look away from our clasped hands. He rubs his thumb over my wedding ring. “What would’ve happened if things could’ve taken their own course?” he asks. “What would’ve happened between us?”

I don’t know what to tell him. Maybe nothing would’ve happen. Maybe we would’ve been inevitable.

Instead, I lead him down the hallway to the room, where we fall into each other’s arms soft kisses.

And before we fall asleep, I feel a familiar fluttering. I grab his hand and press it to my stomach.

Peeta lets out a soft gasp and I know he’s grinning.   
  
That's _our_ son.   
  
And the flame inside of me flares brightly and I don't understand how it's possible, but my heart feels _full_.


	13. Chapter 13

For the first couple of weeks after the interview, I hold my breath, waiting for Peacekeepers to come knocking on the front door to take Peeta away from me. But nothing ever happens.

And after a while, I don't think anything will happen.

Once I know for sure that nothing is going to happen to Peeta, things are...

I don’t know. I don’t know how to describe what I feel on the mornings when I wake up and smell baking bread. Or during random evenings when we decided to have a picnic on the balcony. And on the weekends, when Peeta and I walk to the park, Peeta pushing the stroller with Lucy Erryn in it and my arm linked through his.

The thing is though, I know the word other people would use to describe this. They would say good. Happy. Content. Or at the very least, peaceful. Because it's easier to get up in the mornings. Lucy Erryn reaches for Peeta _and_ me. I catch myself smiling more.

It's terrifying.

Because there are still so many things that could go wrong.

Like what is going to happen now that Lucy Erryn is going to preschool during the week. According to Capitol law, it's required every child start as soon as they turn two.

I remember some kids in the Seam didn't make it to school until at least seven years old.

I don't want to send her. I'm afraid of picking her up and her processors are missing. Because at her age, kids are learning to be cruel from their parents. And I know what the parents whisper about her. I hear them as I pass them in the park. They smile as we pass by, but then their quiet murmuring once they think I'm out of ear-shot. They don't know I spent hours in the forest growing up, listening for the quietest snap of branch from a squirrel and can easily pick up their whispers.

"If that was _my_ child, I would've put her away."

"And there's always the option of just getting rid of a child like that.

"But who would even take a child like that into their home?"

"It's almost like having a child Avox."

Peeta hears them too, because every time they start, he grabs my hand and pulls me further away from them.

Those women are the same mothers that are sending their children to the same preschool as Lucy Erryn.

I'm not just worried about the other kids though. At two years old, Lucy Erryn is already going to be indoctrinated to goodness of the Capitol and Panem.

And we have no choice but to let it happen.

Especially since President Snow is personally funding her education. She's going to the best preschool in the Capitol. And it's also the same preschool Ophelia attends. 'To continue strengthening their alliance.'

Because what better way to prove to all the Districts that the Capitol, that _Snow,_ is good than to have Lucy Erryn Mellark and Ophelia Snow grow up together. Becoming life-long allies.

The only good thing is that it’s walking distance from the penthouse. That way, I can take her. I still haven’t learned how to drive and at this point, I have no desire to learn.

Sometimes, we leave early and stop by the only bakery in the city that Peeta will buy bread from. She always picks out a cupcake with orange sprinkles. One hand holds the cupcake as she eats it and the other is holding mine, swinging it back and forth as we walk the rest of the way to preschool.

At the steps that lead up to the building, I stop and, as best I can, bend down, wipe any frosting from her mouth and remind her, "You are perfect."

The baby continues growing and I’m getting bigger and the only thing I want to eat is the flatbread Peeta makes with butter and tons of garlic. Every weekend, he makes enough to last me the week. Lucy Erryn always makes an attempt to help him, which results in a bigger mess than usual every time. Once the bread is in the oven, I help him clean up. Or at the very least, pull Lucy Erryn out of the kitchen so he can clean.

“What about Barley?” he asks one evening as he's wringing out a cloth after wiping down the counters.

“I don’t think I’ve ever tried your barley bread.” Lucy Erryn rolls a ball over my swollen stomach. How would barley bread taste with butter and garlic? Maybe if I paired it with some cheese...oh, and some tomatoes and-

“No, I’m talking about a name. For the baby.”

I blink. Then I'm turning around, taking longer as I lose my balance for a moment, and stare at him. “Are you being serious?”

He shrugs and doesn’t look at me, scratching at a spot on the counter that I'm positive does not have a stain. “I think it could work.”

I can’t help my small laugh. “I don’t want to name this kid after food. Remember what I said before with Lucy Erryn?”

“You only said that in reference to seasonings, spices, and herbs. You said nothing about food.” He takes off his apron and hangs it on the pantry door.

I laugh even more. Lucy Erryn has her processors off, but I think she feels the vibration because she looks up at me with a huge smile and waves her hands a little. “There is no way I’m naming this kid after anything that is edible.”

“Then give me some of your ideas, if mine’s that terrible," he says, crossing his arms and looking at me with a challenge in his eyes.

Up until that point, I haven’t actually thought about names. I get up from the couch, and move to sit on the bar stool. Lucy Erryn crawls after me, rolling her ball on the floor as she does. I try and peek behind him to see how much longer the bread in the over is going to take. “Robin?”

He purses his lips in thought before saying, “Okay, that’s actually not too bad. But it’s the name of a bird, so that means you can’t criticize me when I bring up names that are related to food.”

I shake my head, but there’s a small smile on my face. We exchange different ideas, but don’t actually settle on one.

Especially after he pulls out the flatbread. Thinking of names is the last thing on my mind as I take bite of the buttered bread.

A few days later, Peeta comes back from work with a huge grin on his face. “I think I found the perfect name,” he says, picking Lucy Erryn up and setting her down on the kitchen counter to share a bowl of blueberries with her.

“And what’s that?” I ask from the dining room, glaring at the notebook in front of me where I'm trying to come up with a new design.

“Branton.”

It’s not too bad actually. I look at him, considering the name.

Branton Mellark.

I like it.

“I did some research and it actually means fire. Perfect for being the child of the girl on fire.”

I’m about to agree, when Peeta adds. “And if you shorten it down to Bran for his nickname, then it’s just like bran muffins.”

“No Peeta!” I'm tempted to throw my pencil at him.

He laughs, making Lucy Erryn start laughing too and I can’t stop smiling at the image of father and daughter, laughing.

I feel warm and…content.

And it’s terrifying because I never thought that I would feel this way. Especially in this place.

It can only mean something terrible is bound to happen soon.

The Victory Tour is in a week. While Peeta still has to go in during these extra hours and do multiple interviews, we have the perfect excuse not to go to the final night of celebration. According to Dr. Pythian, I can go into labor at any moment.

I’m sitting in the living room, balancing a plate of crackers and jelly on my stomach. Peeta joins me a few moments later, picking up my feet and placing them in his lap. Without even thinking to ask him, he’s already massaging my swollen feet.

“We should’ve switched her to her new bed a long time ago,” he mumbles.

He had just put Lucy Erryn back in her bed for the fifth time tonight. She was so excited to switch from the crib to her big girl bed, to make room for her little brother. But she's refusing to actually sleep in it and it's like she was a newborn all over again, getting up and crying, signing she wants to go back in _her_ crib.

“Yeah, but she’ll get used to it soon enough. This is only her first night,” I say. I spread some jelly over a cracker and offer it to him. He leans forward so I can pop it in his mouth while he continues massaging my feet.

He shrugs a little. “I guess.” Peeta turns to look at me. “Are you ready to not get any sleep for the next few months.”

“I hardly sleep anyways. Nothing I’m not used to.”

Peeta smiles a little, then his gaze becomes a bit more thoughtful. “That’s not completely true.”

I tilt my head and wait for him to explain.

“You’ve been sleeping better lately. I mean, as good as you can considering your about to burst. But…you haven’t had any nightmares in a while.”

He’s right. I hadn’t even noticed. Somehow, I’ve been lulled into a sense of security. Even right now, with my feet in Peeta’s lap and Lucy Erryn sleeping in her room, I don’t feel in any immediate danger.

How long has it been since I've let down my guard like this?

“Are you okay?”

Peeta’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. I look at him and let out a small breath. “This is our life now.”

He gives a slow nod. “Yeah…has been for a while.”

And I feel as if I’m betraying everyone, for allowing myself to get so comfortable here. For moving on with this new life at the Capitol.

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Peeta says, giving my foot a soft squeeze. Then he’s moving until he’s kneeling in front of me on the couch. “What else were we supposed to do? Live the rest of our lives in misery? Let Lucy Erryn and this baby grow up with that? Of course we’re always going to remember, but it’s okay to move on.”

I’m crying now and Peeta reaches up to wipe away some of my tears. Then he leans forward and presses a kiss to my forehead.

But it’s not enough.

Before he can pull back completely, I cup his face and press our lips together.

And the warmth blazes into a fire. I hold on to this moment, because I know it’s not going to last. This fire and the blissful contentment is not going to last.

Peeta pulls back, a similar look of contentment in his eyes mingled with love.

Looking at his face, I don’t want to be right about this not lasting.

Peeta gently lifts me a little, enough to make a space for him and now I'm leaning against his chest. He rubs one hand up and down my arm and the other rests on my stomach.

The baby starts kicking and Peeta presses another kiss to my temple.

I don't want to be right.

But I always am.

Two days before the party, the contractions come in the afternoon. While Peeta's still at work.

And I hold on, trying not to move and holding my breath and doing everything I can to stop them from getting closer together.

When he's on his way back is when I can't bear the pain anymore. I have Delia send a message to Effie to come watch Lucy Erryn because it's time.

The baby is coming.

Once Peeta's through the front door, I don't give him a chance to loosen his tie.

"We need to go _now,_ " I say through clenched teeth as I drag him back out the front door. I manage a quick goodbye to Delia and Lucy Erryn as they continue waiting on Effie.

I hold Peeta’s hand the entire drive, partly to help me through the contractions, and also to remind him that there's still time in between the contractions and he doesn’t have to drive as if he’s barely learning.

Dr. Pythian is waiting for us at the hospital. He gives me a quick checkup before reassuring us that everything is perfectly fine and it’s just a matter of waiting for my body to be ready to push the baby out.

This time, he does give me pain medication. And I can still feel the pressure from the contractions, but they're much easier to deal with.

Peeta calls Effie to give her an update and she promises to let everyone else know so that Peeta doesn’t have to constantly be on the phone and can instead focus on me.

I don’t know if that’s helpful though, because he’s pacing the room and it’s making me nervous.

“Can you just sit down?” I snap after having to watch him go up and down for half an hour.

“Sorry,” he says, finally sitting down beside me. But then his prosthetic leg is tapping out an uneven rhythm and I glare at him.

He blows out a heavy breath before leaning back in his chair. “This is happening. It’s really happening again.”

I nod. “Are you ready?”

He purses his lips before shaking his head.

“Me neither,” I say. Because it doesn't feel real. Tomorrow, a baby boy will be here. A part of me and a part of Peeta, woven together again.

I reach for his hand, trying not to squeeze it too hard as another contraction hits me. And I keep holding his hand once it's passed.

Then Tigris' words come to mind. _When the time comes_...Was this what she was talking about? "Stay with me?"

Peeta presses a kiss to my hand. “Always."

The contractions get closer and closer together and Dr. Pythain finally tells me it’s time to push. Peeta never leaves, holding my hand and telling me I’m doing such a good job.

But after my second push, Dr. Pythian says there’s a complication.

A nurse escorts Peeta out of the room and I’m yelling for him,

_When the time comes, don't you dare let your husband leave your side._

He's arguing and pushing against the nurses. Even as another contraction hits, I try to get up, reaching out for him to keep him with me.

But then there's a mask covering my mouth and nose. Everything becomes blurry and I close my eyes and my body falls into a numbing ocean.

I feel like I’m drowning again. I’m always drowning when bad things are happening. I wish whatever it is that’s drowning me would fill up my lungs completely and finish the job. But then what would happen to Peeta and Lucy Erryn?

I do know that when I open my eyes again, I’m not going to like the reality I’m in.

And it’s true, because as I’m gaining consciousness, someone’s breathing is shaky, as if they’ve cried so much they’ve forgotten how to breathe correctly.

I manage to open my eyes and the first thing I see is Peeta, his face buried into the bed and his shoulders rising and falling with silent cries.

A lump grows in my throat. I don’t want to know what could’ve possibly happened that’s causing him to cry like this. Then I remember Dr. Pythian saying something about complications and...

Where’s the baby?

“Katniss?”

I must’ve spoken out loud because Peeta’s lifting his head to look at me, his eyes wide as he stares at me in disbelief. “Where’s the baby?” I repeat, noticing how hoarse my voice sounds.

He’s still staring at me. “Katniss...”

I want him to stop saying my name. To tell me what happened to the baby. “Where's the baby?” It hurts to talk, but I'm not going to stop asking until he gives me an answer.

Peeta swallows hard and he grabs my hand. “Katniss-”

“Would you stop saying my name and just tell me?!” I yell. Or at least I try to. My voice breaks and I start coughing uncontrollably.

The door opens and a nurse comes in. She looks at me in surprise, then hurries out. I’m still coughing when she comes back and she’s handing me a cup of ice chips. I let a few slide into my mouth, relishing the way it soothes my throat. The nurse is checking all the machines I’m hooked up to before saying Dr. Pythian will be in soon.

I turn my attention back to Peeta. “Where’s the baby?” My voice sounds better, but the soreness in my throat is still there.

Peeta’s grip on my hand only tightens. Not once does he look away. “He didn’t make it.”

I inhale sharply. “No...”

“He, um,” Peeta lets go of my hand to rub his eyes. “Dr. Pythian said he was a still birth.”

Nothing he’s saying makes sense. I was fine. The baby was fine. Everything was _fine_.

_Question everything._

Haymitch. Tigris.

What did they know?

“No. That’s not true. I want to see the baby.”

“Katniss, you can’t-”

“I want to see him!” My eyes are filling with tears. This can’t be happening.

Peeta shakes his head. “We had to bury him. I tried to wait as long as possible, but...you weren’t waking up.”

Bury him-?

My throat tightens. “How long?”

“Almost three months.” His voice cracks. He takes a deep breath. “There was a lot of blood loss and they had to do some transfusions on you and um...they couldn’t wake you up and Dr. Pythian wasn’t sure you would even wake up.

“We lost the baby and when you wouldn’t wake up, I...I couldn’t even manage to take care of Lucy Erryn without you and...you are my _world_ , Katniss. You can’t leave me too.”

Before I can respond, Dr. Pythian comes in. He starts asking me all kinds of questions, jotting things down on his clipboard, poking at the IV in my arm, drawing a small vile of my blood. Then he steps back and looks at me with a satisfied smile. “Well, Mrs. Mellark, it’s a happy miracle you’re awake again.”

Peeta squeezes my hand at the statement.

“I’m going to have a few tests run, probably send you in for a quick scan, and if everything comes back clear, I expect you should be released by the end of the week. Any questions?”

“What happened?” I say. Because everything had gone so smoothly with the pregnancy. I couldn’t understand how things got so bad. That I was in a coma for as long as I was. That the baby didn’t survive.

_Question everything._

He says basically the same thing Peeta did, but with medical terms that I don't understand.

“In short, everyone will be thrilled that you have pulled through. We wouldn’t be able to follow the star-crossed lovers anymore if there was only one still living,” he laughs.

Peeta gives him a very tight smile, but I want to reach across and wrap the stethoscope around his neck.

Once he's gone, I turn my attention back to Peeta. “He’s lying.”

“About what?”

“ _Everything_!” I hiss. “There wasn’t anything wrong and...we have to question everything.”

For a moment, he looks confused. Then his face falls. “Katniss, I know this is hard, but this is real.”

“No. It can’t be. I refuse to believe it.”

“Do you think I would lie to you about any of this. You were in a coma for almost three months. I had to have a funeral for _our_ son without you because you weren’t waking up!”

“Did you hold him?”

Peeta scoffs and pulls away from me. ”Are you being serious?”

“Did you hold him?” I repeat, more urgency in my voice.

He clenches his jaw before shaking his head. “They wouldn’t let me. Said it wasn’t sanitary.”

And a flicker of hope jumps in my heart. “Did you see him?”

He closes his eyes and nods. “He looked just like you, Katniss.”

“That wasn’t him. It was a trick. It had to be. Because he can’t be gone. None of this can be happening. None of this is real!”

“Please, just stop!” Peeta yells.

It surprises me enough that I do stop.

“I _grieved_ for him, Katniss. I grieved our son and then I even started grieving for you too. They couldn’t figure out why you weren’t waking up and every week, they told me the likelihood of you waking up again was getting closer to impossible. I don’t know what happened. I don’t understand how things got this bad either. All I know is that I have lost too much already. We _both_ have. And now we have to add another name to the list of everyone we’ve lost. Don’t you think that if Snow wanted to hurt you more, he would’ve done something else? Made sure you were awake to see our son being taken away?”

Part of me still can’t believe it. The baby is gone. He didn’t even take one breath in this world.

Part of me is glad. Because then I won’t see him growing up to call the Capitol home, loving every part of it, and even maybe calling Snow ‘Grandpa’, like his sister.

A sob escapes my lips and all the tears I’ve been trying to push down, finally break free.

Peeta slips off his shoes and climbs into the bed for me. We barely fit, but I press myself as close as I can to him. And lying here with him in this small hospital bed reminds me of when we lost everything.

The sobs come even harder.

I don’t know how much time passes, before I speak again. “What was his name?”

Peeta pulls me closer. “We never settled on a name, and I...I couldn’t do that without you.”

I close my eyes as I try to picture this baby that I will never hold. “Branton,” I say. “Branton Mellark.”

A cross between a laugh and a sob escapes Peeta’s lips as he presses a kiss to the top of my head.

And as we lay there, I know that I never want to do this again.

I can’t deal with the pain of losing something else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise things will eventually start coming together...let me know what you think of this chapter!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay with this chapter! I was out of town and having issues with my computer. But I'm back and here's the latest chapter! As always, I hope you lovelies enjoy it ❤
> 
> Thank you always for the comments/kudos!

A full week passes before Dr. Pythian gives me a clean bill of health and I can leave. Aside from the nurses and Dr. Pythian, the only people allowed to visit me are Peeta, Effie, and Portia. Peeta stays in my room almost all day, making Effie and Portia take turns since only two visitors are allowed at a time. Peeta only leaves at night when visiting hours are over and the nurses practically have to kick him out. But he has to leave, not only because of visiting hours, but also for Lucy Erryn.

She wasn’t allowed to come visit me. Dr. Pythian said it was because of her implants. They would interfere with all the medical equipment. No matter how much I insisted, Dr. Pythian kept saying stuff about electromagnetics and radio waves and none of it made any sense.

“It’s pointless,” Peeta tells me after Dr. Pythian left the room when I first brought it up. “I’ve argued with him about it for the first month. He won’t budge and I don’t know anything about magnets or anything else he said to even know if he’s telling the truth."

I let out a huff. “I don’t trust him.”

“Neither do I, but you can’t change doctors." He looks down at his clasped hands. "I asked about that too."

On the morning I finally leave the hospital, a crowd of reporters is outside waiting for me. Not to wish me well, but to ask for details on this latest tragedy.

“What happened during your pregnancy that caused the still birth?”

“Are you upset with your husband that he held the funeral without you?”

“How is Lucy Erryn dealing with not seeing her mother for three months?”

“When can we expect news of another pregnancy?”

I keep my head down during the short walk from the hospital exit to the car. Peeta holds me close, keeping as much of me out of sight of the cameras and pushing away microphones and anyone who tries to get too close.

Once in the car, I take several deep breaths and keep my eyes closed.

“Sorry about that. Someone keeps leaking details about what's going on,” Peeta mumbles once we're out of sight of the reporters at the hospital. He clenches the steering wheel tightly before adding. “The funeral was so much worse.”

“Don’t you remember?” I say softly. “Nothing in our lives is private. We’re just one big show to keep the Capitol entertained and the Districts subdued.”

“I don’t think it’s working.”

I open my eyes to look at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Peeta takes a few seconds to answer, considering his words carefully. “There’s been a shortage of shellfish for a month now and there’s still no meat products coming in at all.”

Without knowing what’s going on in the districts, this information doesn’t help us at all. It only means that we have to smile more and convince everyone that we are happy.

For a moment, I actually thought that maybe I was happy. Or maybe our act was beginning to fool me too.

I’ll make sure that never happens again though.

Effie and Portia are waiting for us when I walk into the penthouse. “Welcome home!” They both exclaim, clapping and blowing their noisemakers.

My heart throbs at the word ‘home.’ Even after three years, this place doesn't feel like home.

It never will.

Delia's holding Lucy Erryn and once I walk in, she sets her down so I can hug her. She runs towards me, a huge smile on her face. I smile too, marveling at how much she's grown in these last three months. I've missed too much and I won't ever let that happen again.

But instead of running into my open arms, she moves past me to hug Peeta’s legs.

Peeta clicks his tongue. “Don’t you want to hug Mommy?” he asks, picking her up.

Lucy Erryn shakes her head and burying her face into Peeta’s shoulder.

Peeta winces a little as he looks at me. “She just woke up from her nap. She’ll get over it in a little bit.”

I nod and hope the hurt isn’t obvious on my face. Peeta's the better parent. And now that she’s going to daycare during the week, she probably didn’t even register that I was gone.

Then Effie and Portia are hugging me and pulling my mind away from dark thoughts.

They stay for lunch and even though Delia never sits with us when other people visit, I still make sure she serves herself a plate. She doesn't join us at the dining table, but eats at the kitchen bar.

I look over to the living room, where Peeta has finally managed to detach Lucy Erryn from himself. He’s got her distracted with a toy I haven’t seen before as he sets her down in the playpen.

She still hasn’t even looked at me.

Peeta sits next to me at the dining table and falls into easy conversation with Effie and Portia. I smile out of habit, but I’m not even sure what they’re talking about. I can’t focus. Their voices have faded into static. I want to go to bed and not have to think or try and keep up with the words that are never ending here. I want to lie down and pretend I’m outside in the woods, _breathing._

Portia and Effie leave after we finish eating. Before Effie leaves, she pulls out a small box from her purse. “I wanted to give this to you after the baby was born, but well...” She clears her throat and gently dabs her eyes.

My eyes are dry as I look down at the box. “What is it?”

She smiles. “You’re going to have to open it to find out.”

I untie the yellow bow and take the lid off. I frown, pulling out another small box, but this one has a knob and five buttons on it and each button has a single word.

Rain. Thunder. Ocean. Wind. Forest.

I still don’t know what it is.

Effie turns the knob a little and presses the forest button.

The sound of trees rustling and birds chirping comes from the box.

I almost drop it in surprise.

I hear Effie explaining that she asked Beetee to create it during the last Hunger Games and she received it a month before I was due and-

If I close my eyes, it’s almost like I am back in the woods of Twelve.

Before she can finish her explanation, I pull Effie into a tight hug. “Thank you,” I whisper. If I talk any louder, I’ll start crying.

Effie pulls back cupping my face. “The Capitol can be your home too, if you just open your heart and let it. But since I know you and the fact that you almost never do that, I thought this might help make things easier.”

And it will.

Or maybe it’ll make everything harder, reminding me of where I’m not.

Once she’s gone, I go to the room and lie down, closing my eyes and letting the recorded sounds of this forest wash over me.

I don’t come out of the room and Peeta doesn’t try and get me to come out. Night falls and Peeta comes to bed after working in the kitchen, getting bread ready for tomorrow morning. Judging by the way he’s louder than usual while kneading the bread, I can tell he’s stressed. But I don’t ask him what’s wrong when he comes in, neither does he tell me.

As he settles into bed though, he does say, “It sounds like Twelve.”

I move closer to him and breathe in the smell of dough and sugar and something uniquely Peeta. Then he wraps his arms around me, pulling me even closer.

With the sound machine still on, I think for half a second that this is what home feels like.

But I push that thought away. Because something terrible will happen if I dwell on that feeling and I can not let my guard down again.

Then I hear Lucy Erryn’s crying over the sound machine and Peeta lets out a soft moan. “I’ll get her,” he says before getting up and taking the warmth with him.

I focus on her crying, waiting for her to calm down and for Peeta to come back. But her crying intensifies and she’s screaming now. Something must have really scared her because normally Peeta can get her to calm down almost instantly.

Then the crying gets louder until I see Peeta come into the room, holding her in his arms. He sets her down on the bed and she immediately crawls towards me, curling herself around me and I can feel her hands moving, but it’s too dark for me to make out what she’s trying to say through her hands.

I kiss her head and smooth down her hair. Already her cries are quieting into soft hiccups.

“She just kept asking for you. Wouldn’t tell me what was wrong.” Peeta says as he climbs back into bed. He moved closer so Lucy Erryn is squeezed between us and grabs my free hand

My heart feels both full and empty. There should be another little body cuddled between us. We shouldn’t even be here. We should be in the place where we can hear the sounds of the forest naturally and not on a machine. We should be in the place where we are safe and freely call it home.

I squeeze Peeta’s hand and bury my face in Lucy Erryn’s hair. I fall asleep crying, wondering how long it will be before they are taken from me too.

The next day, Peeta asks if I want to go to the cemetery.

“No,” I tell him. “I don’t feel like dealing with the reporters or the cameras.” Because they are most definitely out, waiting for me to go see his grave. It’s what any mother would do. And the Capitol is obsessed with broadcasting every detail of our lives. I want to grieve for him in private, away from the cameras where Snow is watching every move and making sure I don’t incite some kind of rebellion.

I’ll never be able to understand how anyone can take my actions for acts of rebellion though. Don’t they understand that I'm only trying to survive?

The day before Peeta goes back to work, we have our own private memorial service, like we did for our families. He draws a picture of Branton, burns it, and we scatter the ashes from the balcony.

This time, I let Lucy Erryn grab a handful and watch as she blows them from her hand. There's small frown on her face, looking between me and Peeta. She holds up her arms and Peeta picks her up. Then she digs two fingers into his cheeks and forces him to smile.

Peeta’s expression is ridiculous enough to pull a small laugh from my lips. Then he’s smiling without Lucy Erryn’s help and he hugs her tightly.

We go in together and Lucy Erryn sleeps between us again that night.

And the world keeps on moving. Peeta goes back to work, I take Lucy Erryn to daycare, orders come in for custom designs.

But I’m having a hard time moving forward. Aside from dropping Lucy Erryn off and picking her up from daycare, I don’t leave the room. Peeta is the only one that can coax me to sit at the dining table for diner. It’s usually the only meal I’ll eat, and even then, I don’t taste anything. Not even when Peeta decides to make breakfast for dinner, serving me a plate with a chessebun, sliced tomatoes and scrambled eggs.

I try not to use the sound machine too much because even though it is a huge comfort, it’s still a reminder of everything that I’ve lost and everything that could’ve been.

One night, I wake up not because of a nightmare, but because the dream was _too_ good.

“Are you okay?” Peeta asks, his eyes half open as he reaches out for my hand.

“I had a dream,” I say.

“Was it a bad one?” He draws me closer until I’m resting my head on my chest.

“No," I whisper, turning my wedding around on my finger so my thumb runs over and over the pearl. "We were sitting in a field, away from everything, having a picnic. You were playing with Lucy Erryn, showing her how to make a wish on dandelions. I was watching you and I was holding Branton.” I swallow hard, shutting my eyes to stop the tears. “We were happy.”

From the way his chest is slowly rising and falling, I think he’s fallen asleep and maybe didn’t even hear me.

As I’m starting to fall asleep again too, he whispers. “You shouldn’t have woken up.”

Some days, that familiar warmth blooms in my chest. When Lucy Erryn shows a picture of scribbles that she insists is the three of us. When Peeta plays with Lucy Erryn and gets her to laugh uncontrollably. When the three of us are lying in bed with the sound of the forest surrounding us.

Those are the same moments I pull away. I don’t want to know what that warmth is. Because it’s too good and I can’t stand to lose it again. Peeta sometimes tries to pull me back. Sometimes I let him. Sometimes I lock myself in the bathroom and try to find the numbness. And sometimes, he leaves me alone, giving me a sad, but understanding look.

That’s when I wonder if he feels the same warmth too. But if he does, he’s probably embracing it, still looking to the future with hope.

A week before the 78th Hunger Games, we get a call that we were expecting, but hoping would never come.

President Snow has invited us to lunch for the next day.

Lucy Erryn is the only one that sleeps that night. Peeta and I lie side by side, our fingers barely touching. We know what he’s going to ask. And thinking about what we are going to have to do makes it difficult to even curl up into each other.

Halfway through the night, Peeta says, “I don’t care what he does, if you don’t want it, then it’s not going to happen. We can find another way."

He doesn’t understand though. Even if I don’t want it, I still have to make sure it happens. Because I can’t live through seeing Peeta hurt again because I didn’t follow orders.

I can't take not being able to touch him anymore. I move until I’m curled up into his side, his arms automatically wrapping around me. “Just one more night,” I whisper. “One more night where the only thing we need to worry about is sleeping.”

Except neither of us can sleep.

Instead of going in for work, Peeta takes the whole day off. Which I’m grateful for because Lucy Erryn has decided that she is going to be completely uncooperative. She refuses to let me braid her hair in the morning and when she’s dressed, she gets into the fridge when no one is looking and smears jam all over herself.

It reminds me of blood and the cup I was holding slips from my hand and shatters.

Peeta runs into the kitchen to see what happened and I know he sees the same thing I do. Because his face pales and he grabs on to the kitchen counter to keep from running towards Lucy Erryn.

Instead, he takes several deep breaths before grabbing her and taking her straight to the bathroom to clean her up. She screams the entire time and it makes me think of Rue.

No, no, no. I can't think of her today. Not today. Not when I'm barely holding on and we have to see President Snow today.

But the time passes and just after one in the afternoon, Peeta is pulling the car up to the Presidential Palace.

Even though it’s been over a year since we’ve come here and Lucy Erryn wasn’t even two yet, she somehow remembers this place.

“Seeing Ampa Snow?” she asks from her car seat as Peeta parks.

Bile comes up my throat and I have to close my eyes and take several deep breaths.

“We’re seeing _President_ Snow,” Peeta patiently corrects.

She ignores the correction, beginning to babble on about Grandpa Snow.

An Avox guides us to the sunroom where we’ll be having lunch. Peeta manages to get Lucy Erryn to talk about something else. Her friend Ophelia. I still don’t like the topic, but it’s better than hearing her praising Grandpa Snow.

Unlike when I came back from the hospital, Lucy Erryn runs up to Snow, a huge smile on her face as he picks her up into his arms. Out of instinct, I reach out to hold her back, but Peeta is quick to grab my hand and still me.

“It’s been much too long since I’ve seen this delightful child,” Snow says, looking at Lucy Erryn. His lips curl into a smile that looks unnatural. After everything he’s done and continues to do, this man shouldn’t even be capable of such an expression.

We sit at the table and start eating. I can only get two bites down, my heart thudding and stomach in knots. Like all the other times, Peeta and Snow carry a conversation about Peeta’s work. Lucy Erryn is talking this time too, mixing her spoken language with sign language when there’s a particular word or expression she still has difficulty expressing vocally.

Snow raises an eyebrow as he catches her hand movements. That’s going to be another thing he’ll hold against us, I’m sure of it.

He clears his throat and motions for an Avox to take Lucy Erryn to the greenhouse. “All the roses are in bloom and I’m sure she will love to see them.”

Lucy Erryn jumps out of her seat before I can protest and is walking with the Avox.

I watch her leave, completely oblivious to the danger around her.

Once she’s gone, Snow turns his attention back to us. “I truly am sorry about your loss earlier this year. That must’ve been difficult.”

Peeta holds my hand under the table. “Yes, but like with everything, we got through it together.”

“Hmm. I imagine that was complicated. You had moved on already by the time Mrs. Mellark was barely finding out. Grieving at two different times doesn’t exactly sound like getting through it ‘together’.” He leans back in his chair as he looks at both of us.

“You make a way when you love someone. Though I’m not sure you would understand that, President Snow," Peeta responds without missing a beat.

I try not to let my face show any reaction, but I do give Peeta’s hand a hard squeeze at his words.

Snow laughs. “Is that what it is then? Love?” He looks directly at me as he asks. He tilts his head as he waits for me to respond.

I straighten my shoulders and don’t break eye contact. “Yes.”

“Then if that’s the case, I don’t understand why no new announcement has been made.” Snow pops a grape into his mouth and waits for a response.

Before Peeta can say anything, I speak up. “I needed some time before, but I’m ready now.”

Snow smiles. “Good. I expect an announcement in three months. That gives you plenty of time. And remember, the Capitol only wants to see you happy, Mrs. Mellark.

The sound machine is loud that night. “We don’t have to do this,” Peeta whispers. “I can find a way that we don’t have to do it.”

The only way that would be possible if we actually died. I think about nightlock berries. What if we found them here? Would we eat them? And what about Lucy Erryn? Would we take her with us, or allow her to grow up completely under the Capitol's influence?

“We can start after the Games,” I say. If we start now, then it’ll be an extra week of sleepless nights before I hardly see Peeta during the Games.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Question for you readers! So...as I'm continuing writing these chapters, this fic is getting a lot longer than I originally anticipated. So which would you prefer: an extra long fic or the fic split into two and creating a series? I hardly have a perfect place for it to be split into two, if that ends up being the route I take. And if it is split in two, the chapter number will probably change, just fyi. Let me know if there's any huge preferences!
> 
> Hope you enjoy this next chapter! And the next few chapters...oh man, I am really excited for you to read them because, I just think it's really good and things start moving even more and there's connections being made and ahhh, I'm just so excited about it!
> 
> Thank you always for your kudos/comments! Let me know what you think of this chapter!
> 
> ***TW: Suicide mention***

The plan was to stay as unnoticed as possible during the after party of the Opening Ceremony. Or at least avoid all the mentors.

Instead, I'm in the bathroom with Johanna, holding the cape her stylist decided to give her this year, while she holds back Arnia's hair as she throws up into the toilet.

Arnia's heaves finally stop and she flushes the toilet. She sits up, but stares at the floor. "I really miss him," she whispers and I catch a few tears sliding down her cheeks.

"Yeah, well you chose a shitty time to have a breakdown," Johanna growls.

Before I can snap at Johanna to go easy, she takes the cape from my hands and uses it to wipe Arnia's face of tears and smeared makeup.

"If you've going to say no, then you better prepare for the consequences." Johanna's words are still harsh, but her tone is much more softer.

Like an older sister.

Arnia sniffles and looks up at me. Her face pales and for a moment, I think she's going to throw up again. But she moans out, "Oh God...tell Peeta I'm sorry-"

"It's fine," I cut off her apology. "Gave us a pretty good excuse to get away from the party for a bit."

She gives me a wry smile before Johanna gets up and pulls her up from the floor as well. "Yeah, but we've still got asses to kiss if we're planning on getting any sponsors this year."

Johanna links her arm through Arnia's and with the way she stumbles through the bathroom door, it's obvious she's still a little drunk. I walk out as well, but don't follow as Johanna leads Arnia to a secluded area of the party.

Because Finnick is right outside the bathroom, apparently waiting for me since Johanna and Arnia brushed right by him without stopping.

"Peeta?" I ask him, glancing at him, before looking at the crowds for his sandy hair.

"I'm sure he's on his way." Finnick moves to stand next to me as I still scan the crowds. Then he speaks in a low voice, “Her father died a few months ago. Doctor’s say it was because of a heart attack."

So that's what Arnia was talking about in the bathroom.

Finnick grabs a drink from a passing Avox. He finishes half of it in one gulp.

And I make further connections. Arnia said no. And her father's death was the consequence.

“I’m sorry about the baby and the way this year started for you two,” he says in a quiet voice.

I close my eyes. I don't want to have another one of these conversations without Peeta. This night has been full of them and Peeta has stayed by my side to give the proper responses.

This is Finnick though. He would see right through both of us. So I say the only thing I can think of. "I'm sorry about what happened with Mags last year."

Finnick finishes the rest of the drink. "We all knew it was coming. At least it happened peacefully."

We're both quiet and I look at Finnick again. His eyes are glassy, making it obvious he's had one too many drinks tonight. But the cocky grin isn't there. No, he looks ten years older and his mind is far away from the Capitol.

But then his gaze shifts and he smirks. It doesn't reach his eyes.

I turn to follow his gaze to see Peeta, smoothing out the new suit jacket he's changed into. "Is Arnia okay?" he asks once he's close enough.

My hands reach out to straighten his collar and tie. "Johanna took her. She'll be fine."

Finnick tilts his head a little. "And this is why you should always bring an extra change of clothes. At some point, someone will throw up all over you if you stick around long enough."

"I hear this hasn't been the best year for her," Peeta says.

Finnick looks down at his glass with a frown, as if forgetting he finished his drink already. "Yeah, hasn't been the best for a lot of people, has it?"

I purse my lips. I don't want to him to bring it up for the second time that night.

Peeta places a hand on my back. “It is what it is.”

Finnick purses his lips and nods. “A lot of people in the Districts were upset about what happened with you two. Of course, for different reasons than the people in the Capitol."

“Why’s that?” Peeta asks.

"People like to look for hope in strangest places. Especially when it means change is so close they can taste it."

I don’t want to hear it. I don’t care if it has something to do with the rebels. What have they ever done for us? Nothing. If anything, they’re the reason why we’re here. Taking an action that I meant to only save me and Peeta and blowing it up into something huge.

Like Finnick said. Looking for change in the strangest places

“It doesn’t matter,” I say, interrupting Finnick’s hidden explanation.

Finnick looks at me with a raised eyebrow. “Is that what you think?”

I tilt my chin up and give a small nod.

“Katniss, but what about-?”

I cut Peeta off. “The only thing that matters is making sure nothing bad ever happens to Lucy Erryn. Right?”

“Maybe Finnick has some information that can help us make sure she always stays safe, no matter what happens.”

Finnick scoffs. “Don't worry about it, Peeta. I get it. But remember, Katniss. You aren’t the only one with people you're trying to protect.”

There’s a dark look in Finnick’s eyes as he turns and walks away.

Peeta places a light pressure on my back and he’s guiding me through the crowds until we’re in a secluded area.

“Katniss, he could’ve given us information about what’s going on in the districts.” Peeta lowers his voice as he speaks.

I loop my arm through his and we slowly walk together. As if we really are the Victors from Twelve that are so in love with each other, having a private, affectionate conversation. “What good will any of that information do?”

“We can _help_.”

“How? Nothing in our lives is private. There’s nothing we can do without it getting back to Snow.”

“But we could still try and give Lucy Erryn a chance at a better life. Because that’s what it’s all about, right?”

No. It’s not. It’s about keeping him safe too.

Then I register something.

All this time, Peeta has been living with hope. Hope that we will get out of the Capitol. That the rebels might succeed one day. That we can live without any fear. He's been looking for hope in strange places too.

I stop walking and pull him to face me. “Haven’t you realized it by now?” My voice even softer than before. “We’re never getting out of here. Nothing is ever going to change for us.”

“But-“

I put a finger to his lips. “No, Peeta. I can’t risk it. I don’t want to deal with the lies and the secrets again. I just want to try and survive and make sure nothing ever happens to you or Lucy Erryn.”

He grabs my hand and presses a kiss to my fingers.

But it’s not an answer.

“Promise me, Peeta. Please. We can’t get involved.” It’s selfish of me. But my life since the Games has only been about survival.

He lets out a heavy sigh, then says, “Okay. I promise.”

I know I can trust him to not break this promise.

I rest my head against his chest and let him wrap his arms around me. Warmth spreads through me, but I try my best to push it out. Nothing good comes from that warmth. “Can we leave already?”

Peeta nods. “We can use Arnia throwing up all over me as an excuse and won't have to say goodbye to anyone."

I grimace as the image of what happened replays in my head. But he pulls my hand and we do manage to sneak out of the party and back to the penthouse.

That night, I hold on to Peeta tighter than normal. Because my mind flashes with nightmares of Arnia being trampled by a crowd of Capitolites, her face constantly changing from her own to Prim’s, then back to her own. Finnick drowning as he calls out names that I can’t remember, but I know they’re the people he’s trying to protect. Johanna’s cruel laugh, switching to sobs as she chokes on her own blood. Lucy Erryn clinging on to Snow, even as his body transforms into a mutt.

The only thing that keeps me from crying out is focusing on Peeta’s steady heartbeat.

Before the sun comes up, he’s detangling himself from me to go into work.

I take over the empty space, breathing in his lingering smell and letting the diminishing warmth envelope me. For a moment, I feel like a coward. Finnick's right. Everyone has people they're trying to protect.

But if we do something, who's going to protect us? Who's going to protect Peeta and Lucy Erryn?

Not the rebels. They're the reason why we're here. They're the ones that bombed the arena three years ago and left us here in the Capitol with no way out.

Two weeks after the Games started, the male tribute from Eleven wins by default. The other remaining tribute, the female tribute from Two, slit her wrists. By the time the Gamemakers realized this, it was too late to do anything.

Peeta’s first night after returning to his normal schedule, he falls into my arms and cries softly. “I don’t know how long I can do this,” he whispers.

I wipe his tears away. I don't know what I can say to make any of this better for him.

The next night is when we start the process.

For a whole week, neither of us sleep. Because after it's over, Peeta leaves to sleep in the guest bedroom.

Everyday, I become more and more irritable and I find myself snapping at Lucy Erryn, which I immediately feel guily about afterwards and let her have an extra cookie as an apology.

It's affecting Peeta too. He becomes forgetful and zones out during the most inopportune moments. Burning some toast. Forgetting he gave Lucy Erryn a handful of blueberries and letting her create a mess with them in the living room.

It even happens live on TV the fourth day.

_“Um, Peeta? Are you still with us?”_ Caesar asks as he waves a hand in front of Peeta’s face.

Peeta blinks and shakes his head a little. He forces a smile. _“Oh, sorry about that, Caesar. I, um,_ ” he shakes his head again and shuffles his papers. _“I’m fine.”_

_“The missus not letting you get much sleep at night?”_ Caesar asks, waggling his eyebrows.

Peeta’s smile tightens. _“You could say something like that.”_

Then the teasing begins and Peeta’s face turns bright red as he attempts to get back onto whatever topic they were discussing before.

A week later, my cycle comes. Now we have to endure another week of trying and getting no sleep.

We try for only a week, because neither of us can take much more than that. I count the days of when to expect my cycle again and on the third day that I’m late, Peeta goes out to buy a pregnancy test.

I take it after Lucy Erryn has gone to sleep for the night. Peeta and I sit on the floor of the balcony, the test between us as we wait for the results. The city lights are so bright, you can’t even see any of the stars. Sitting out here on the balcony with Peeta reminds me of the last time we were on the roof of the Training Center, just before the Quarter Quell.

We never should’ve come down from that roof.

“You’re pregnant,” Peeta says after enough time has passed.

I don’t look at him. Instead, I close my eyes and imagine a different situation. Where I’m the one making the announcement. And I’m smiling at him. He’s crying at the news, but because he’s happy and he picks me up and twirls me around.

I’m happy too in that situation.

Peeta gets up and takes the test with him. He tosses it in the trash, then starts to make bread, despite the late hour.

Two days later, the pregnancy is confirmed by Dr. Pythian. He gives me instructions and vitamins and a list of everything I should or shouldn’t be eating. I ignore him, my mind thinking about the last pregnancy and a budding fear that what if the same thing happens?

We announce it together a month after Lucy Erryn turns three. I make a special appearance on the morning show with Peeta.

“It’s still so heartbreaking to even just think about how this year started out for you two. First, it was a having a stillbirth, then you, Katniss, in a coma for three months. While I am ecstatic for this news, is there a part of you that’s terrified?” Caesar asks me during the interview.

I grab onto Peeta’s hand, glancing at him and seeing the look of adoration on his face. It’s a familiar look, but it’s definitely dialed up for the cameras. I hope my expression mirrors his own. “I think there’s always going to be fear, but I’m glad to have Peeta by my side through everything.”

It’s the answer I practiced in the mirror before coming to the station.

“Aw, isn’t that too sweet!” Caesar exclaims. “But even still. You give birth, everything is fine, what if you do find out later on that something is wrong? I mean, you already have Lucern and her problems to deal with. Would you really want to handle another problem child?”

My back straightens. “Lucy Erryn isn’t a problem child. There is nothing wrong with her. She’s a little bit different, but there is _nothing_ wrong with her.”

“Uh-oh, looks like I’ve awoken the protective Mama Bear!” Caesar laughs.

I open my mouth to begin arguing, but Peeta gives my hand a tight squeeze. “Like Katniss said, there’s nothing wrong with our daughter. Lucy Erryn is loved by both of us and this growing baby is just as loved. No matter what.”

Peeta's statement is half true. I do love Lucy Erryn. But this growing baby? I don’t feel anything. In fact, the only thing I do feel is the wish for this pregnancy to not even be happening.

Peeta knows this too. Because every time he holds my hair back while I throw up from the morning sickness or brings me my vitamins and makes me eat something, he always tells me, “This isn’t forever.”

And he's right. But not in the way either of us were expecting.

Just two weeks after the interview, I wake up with horrible cramps. I throw the blankets off my body to go use the restroom, when I see it.

Blood. So much blood.

“Peeta…” My voice shakes as I stare at the blood. This isn't right. Something is very wrong. “Peeta!”

He wakes up the second time I call for him. “Katniss? What is it?” He rubbs his eyes, sitting up to look at me.

Then he sees the blood too.

He inhales sharply and meets my gaze. For a second, neither of us move, each wondering if this is just another nightmare.

But then another cramp rocks me forward and I squeeze my eyes shut, curling into myself from the pain.

Peeta jumps into action, clicking his prosthetic on and running to my side. “We need to go the hospital _now._ ”

I clench my teeth and nod, my eyes still squeezed shut from the pain.

Peeta scoops me up and carries me out of the room. He pauses as he stares into the open door to Lucy Erryn’s room.

“We’ve got to bring Lucy Erryn now too. It’s going to take too long for me to leave you in the car and then come back up for her. We’re taking her right now too.” Peeta’s words come out in a jumbled mess as he turns on the light in Lucy Erryn’s room.

Lucy Erryn moans a little, squinting up at the light.

“Lucy Erryn, let’s go!” Peeta calls out, making a vain attempt at signing with me still in his arms since she can't sleep with her processors on.

She just stares at us blearily.

Peeta adjusts me in his arms and I yelp, burying my face in his shoulder to muffle the sound. But now he's holding me with one hand and using the other to quickly pull her out of bed and get her moving.

Somehow he manages to get us into the elevator. I inhale sharply as another cramp seems to stab at my insides. “It’s okay, everything’s going to be fine,” he whispers.

But it's too much blood and pain.

Things are not going to be okay.

He sets me down in the front seat of the car and makes Lucy Erryn climb into the back. He doesn't even check to make sure she's buckled herself in before pulling out of the parking garage and speeding to the hospital.

“You’re going to be fine, Katniss. You’re going to be okay,” Peeta repeats over and over as he squeezes my hand while he drives.

I keep my eyes closed, trying to breath through the pain and remember that Peeta is here with me.

“Mama?” Lucy Erryn calls out from the back seat. “What’s wrong?”

Her words come out thick, as they usually do when she speaks without her processors.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” Peeta says, loud enough for his voice to reach the backseat. But she can't hear anything.

Instead, she repeats her question. This time her voice wavering with tears.

I want to turn around so she can see my hands forming words for her, but before I can even move, another sharp cramp rips through my body. I have to bite my tongue to keep from yelling.

“We’re almost there! I promise you, we’re almost there!”

Despite Peeta’s reassurances, it feels like an eternity before the car squeals to a stop right at the front entrance of the hospital. He opens the back and passenger door, making sure Lucy Erryn gets out as he lifts me in his arms again.

“I need help!” he calls out as soon as we're in the front lobby. “Please! Someone help me! My wife, she’s bleeding and the baby…” The words catch in his throat. I don’t have to look at his face to know he's crying.

A doctor runs up with a wheelchair, taking me from him and settling me in the chair. The movement pulls a cry from my lips and I'm pushed down a hallway.

I can hear Peeta starting to argue with a nurse to let him come with me and Lucy Erryn’s crying. I manage to catch one last glimpse of them before the doctor pushes me around a corner.

Lucy Erryn is cowering behind Peeta’s legs, sobbing as she watches and Peeta is staring at me, frozen in his place and his hands covered in my blood.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the new chapter! This one was a bit harder because it's a buildup to something really big and the next chapter has been one of my favorites to write and I'm really excited about it that I might end up posting it tomorrow because I really want to know what you lovely readers think of it already?? We'll just see how my editing of it goes and who knows, maybe there really will be two updates in one weekend 😉
> 
> Thank you always for the kudos/comments! And there's going to be some good things coming up, I promise!! Let me know what you think of this chapter 🤗❤

I must’ve passed out or was given an anesthetic. Because when I open my eyes again, the hospital room I’m in is bright with sunshine.

Peeta is here, asleep in a chair right next to my bedside with his neck twisted at an odd angle that’s definitely going to be sore when he wakes up. Lucy Erryn’s sitting in his lap, fast asleep too.

I look around at all the machines and equipment I’m hooked up to.

Everything is working fine. Nothing seems to be malfunctioning because of Lucy Erryn’s implants.

I try to sit up, but a sharp pain fills my abdomen and I let out groan.

It’s loud enough to wake Peeta.

His eyes snap open at the sound and he blinks at me a couple of times before letting out a deep breath. “You’re awake.” He rolls his neck a little and adjusts some in his seat, making sure Lucy Erryn won’t slip off his lap and wake up.

I don’t respond. I want to ask what happened, but I already know the answer. “How long this time?” I ask instead.

He shakes his head a little. “Just a few hours.”

That’s when I notice both Lucy Erryn and Peeta are still in their pajamas. I can make out some of my blood on Peeta’s shirt.

“Is she okay?” I ask, nodding towards Lucy Erryn.

Peeta looks down at her pulling her up as she had started to slide down his lap slowly. “Yeah. She got pretty overwhelmed at first and, um...didn’t sleep at all until we were finally allowed in to see you.”

Aside from the beeping of the machines and Lucy Erryn’s steady breaths, the room is silent for a few minutes.

“We’re going to have to start all over again, aren’t we?” I finally whisper.

“Your body needs time to heal, but yeah.”

I close my eyes and cover my face with my hands.

Our lives is just dealing with one crisis after the other. How much longer can we go on like this?

The door opens and I pull my hands away to see a doctor standing at the foot of my bed, smiling at me before grabbing my clipboard and looking it over. “Glad to see you’re awake, Mrs. Mellark,” she says. “I'm Dr. Morrow. How are you feeling?”

I answer with a question of my own. “Where’s Dr. Pythian?”

“Oh, he’s actually out for this week. So I’ll be taking care of you during your stay. Which shouldn’t be more than three days tops.”

I give a small nod, wondering how true this is.

Then she begins explaining what happened.

A miscarriage.

And after hearing those words spoken out loud, I don't pay attention to anything else.

It doesn't really matter, did it? Because as soon as my body is healed, we have to make another attempt to satiate Snow's obsession with us having more children.

But what if this keeps happening? This is the second baby I've lost. Did it know that I didn't want to be pregnant? Is that why I had the miscarriage?

Guilt start growing in me as Dr. Morrow says, “If there aren’t any questions, I’ll be on my way and send a nurse in to bring you some food.”

“Is it alright if Lucy Erryn stays?” Peeta asks before she can leave.

She tilts her head a little. “Of course. Why wouldn’t she be allowed to?”

Peeta and I exchange a quick glance before he answers. “Um, I just thought her implants might be interfering with the machines or something.”

Dr. Morrow actually laughs. “No, that would never happen. You and Lucy Erryn are welcome to stay for as long as you’d like.”

And with that, she leaves the room.

“He lied to us,” I say as soon as the door closes behind her. What else has he lied to us about?

“Maybe we can get her to give us second opinions on all doctor’s appointments.”

I hum in agreement, wondering if we could do it without Snow finding out.

Effie shows up a few hours later. Her eyes red and swollen and when she sees me in the hospital bed, she breaks down into even more tears. “I just don’t understand it,” she says, sitting across from Peeta on the other side of my bed. “You two deserve so much happiness and _still_ things like this continue happening.”

“What matters is that we’re together and we have Lucy Erryn,” Peeta says. He grabs my hand and looks at me. “That’s enough for me.”

My stomach twists as that familiar warmth shoots through my body. I manage a smile, but I don’t look at him for too long. I can’t get comfortable with that warmth.

Not again.

And especially not if this miscarriage is my fault.

Lucy Erryn wakes up a little after Effie comes. She stares at me for a while, as if checking to make sure that I am okay. Then she starts tugging at Peeta’s arm, dragging her cupped hand down her chest repeatedly.

“Let me see if I can go find some food for her.” Peeta gets up and sets Lucy Erryn down in a chair. Extending out his thumb and pinky, he motions for her to stay.

“Why don’t you go home?” says Effie. “I can stay with Katniss and you can go back, change, have some lunch, and then come back.”

Peeta shakes his head. “No, it’s fine. I don’t think-“

“It’s okay, Peeta,” I interrupt. “You need to change clothes anyways.”

He looks down, as if just noticing the blood on his clothes. He closes his eyes and blows out a deep breath. “Okay.” He gets up, lifting Lucy Erryn in his arms and bringing her close to me so I can give her a quick peck on her forehead. Then Peeta leans down and kisses my cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

I keep my eyes on him as long as I can, watching through the small window of the door as he walks down the hallway and out of sight. Already, my heart rate picks up at his absence. But it’s fine. Effie is here at least. I’m not alone.

“I’d like to think that Haymitch would be happy for you. Maybe not right in this moment with…well, you know. But he’d be happy you and Peeta have each other and Lucy Erryn too. That you’re together, like Peeta said,” says Effie.

A small scoff escapes my lips. “He never liked us. Especially not me,” I grumble, not meeting her gaze. I don’t feel like talking about Haymitch or anything that reminds me of home.

Effie leans back in her chair, a tiny smile playing on her lips. “Oh, I never said he actually _liked_ you. He was always complaining about you. Stubborn, headstrong, didn’t know a good thing if it slapped you in the face.”

My eyes shoot up to met hers and she holds her hands up defensively. “His words, not mine. But I think it’s because you reminded him too much of himself when he was younger.”

Effie gets a distant look in her eyes. This is the most she’s spoken of Haymitch since he and everyone else from Twelve died. I don’t say anything, afraid if I do, she’ll stop. Even if I don't want to think of anything related to District Twelve.

“He always said that Peeta was the best out of the three of you. But you each had your own special qualities. Peeta is good and kind and…he hasn’t changed much since winning the games, unlike almost all the other Victors. Haymitch was a terrible drunk, but he did care. Sometimes too much. I think that’s one of the reasons he always tried to stay drunk. And you, Katniss, you care twice as much as Haymitch did and it’s obvious you’ll do anything to keep the people you love safe.

I look away, trying to swallow down the lump in my throat.

“Things will get better, Katniss. But you have to let go and allow yourself to move on.”

“You mean forget.”

“No, of course not. I doubt you could, even if you wanted to. But what I’m trying to say is, you’re going to have to allow some happiness into your life.”

I shake my head. I’ve already tried that and look what happened. I lost three months of my life and two pregnancies.

“I think Peeta’s ready to be happy. He’s just waiting for you.”

I hate that tears are welling in my eyes. I start playing with the edge of the sheet that’s covering me. “I don’t know how to be happy anymore,” I whisper.

Effie clicks her tongue. “That young man is ready to show you as soon as you let him know you’re ready."

“And if I’m never ready?”

“I’d like to think that one day you will be,” she says with a smile. “Just remember to not let this good thing go to waste and prove Haymitch wrong.”

I manage a smile at that. Then I wipe my face, but it’s pointless. My cheeks get wet with tears almost right away.

Effie doesn’t say anything else. She just sits with me in the silence.

Never in a hundred years would I have imagined having a heart to heart with Effie Trinket.

Peeta comes back with Lucy Erryn a little over an hour later. Enough time for my tears to have dried up and no evidence of them anywhere. They’re both freshly changed and Lucy Erryn has her processors on and is carrying her backpack she always uses for preschool. She glances my way, as if checking to make sure I’m still awake and fine, before running to her Auntie Effie and showing her all the things that she brought.

“You okay?” Peeta asks, leaning over to kiss my forehead before settling in the seat right next to me.

I nod, glancing over to Lucy Erryn. She’s already pulled out five different toys and it looks like there’s still more. “Is she planning on moving in?”

Peeta smiles a little. “No, I just wanted to make sure she was entertained. She didn’t want to stay with Delia.”

I look at Peeta closely, noting the bags under his eyes, the stubble that’s sprouted on his chin and his hair sticking up in random places. But he’s here and so long as I don’t mess up any of Snow’s plans or incite more rebellion in the districts, he’ll always be here with me.

This is the good thing that’s right in front of me. Him and Lucy Erryn. But I’m still terrified of reaching out for it. Because I know that as soon as I do, it will go up in smoke.

Like everything else in my life.

I reach out and smooth down some of his hair. He moves a little closer to give me better access. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I will be,” I say, managing a tiny smile.

Effie leaves after a few hours. She convinces Lucy Erryn to come with her by promising a trip to the park and ice cream afterwards. She even offers to watch her for the night. “It’ll be a fun sleep over with Auntie Effie. That way she can actually sleep in a bed and let Daddy stay the night with Mommy because everyone knows that he doesn’t have any plans to leave.”

Peeta doesn’t deny it. “Thanks Effie,” he says.

Quiet fills the room when they leave. That’s when it finally hits me. I lost the baby. A piece of Peeta and a piece of me that came together _died_. And this is the second time it’s happened, albeit it happened differently this time. But how many more times will it happen?

And did it happen because I didn't want it?

Before I know it, Peeta’s climbs into the bed with me. I bury my face in his chest as my body trembles with sobs.

Neither of us say anything. And we manage to sleep for the whole night. A nurse wakes us up in the morning, bringing me a tray of food that I let Peeta pick at because I don’t have any kind of appetite.

Dr. Morrow comes in, checks a few things, then says I’m ready to be released. But she advises against trying for another baby until after three months.

I can live with that.

Maybe by that point I can convince myself I do want a baby and there won't be another miscarriage.

When we get to the penthouse, Delia has lunch ready for us. Effie is already there with Lucy Erryn and we all eat lunch together. Even Delia joins us at the table. But I want to go the room and curl up, my body sore from the short walk from the elevator to the penthouse. Dr. Morrow said I would be sore for a few weeks.

I force myself to stay at the table. I pick at my food and listen to Lucy Erryn give every single detail of her stay with Auntie Effie. I even manage a smile when she tells an obvious exaggeration that Effie is quick to correct.

As soon as Effie leaves, I go straight to the room and curl up to try and alleviate the pain. Peeta follows after me with a glass of water and some painkillers.

Peeta considers not going into work tomorrow, but I tell him I’ll be fine.

“What’s the worst that can happen at this point?” I say.

He gives me an unreadable look but agrees with me.

The next morning after Peeta leaves, I make my way to the couch and turn on the TV for his morning show.

And the first topic of the show is me.

_“Peeta, why don’t you give us a quick update on the situation that happened the other night. There's been talk going around, but no clear details have come out.”_

Peeta has no other choice but to share one of the nights I wish I could forget. Now all of Panem knows what happened. At least he’s vague about the details. Watching him behind this screen, I can see in his eyes that he’s reliving that night too.

It’s the first time I’ve considered how he must’ve felt at being woken up to find me bleeding like that. I’m amazed at how he managed the situation. I don’t think I would’ve had enough sense in me to even drive to the hospital or remember to bring Lucy Erryn if I woke up to find Peeta bleeding out.

 _“How are the two of you_ really _doing? I mean, this is the second baby in a year that you’ve lost. How are things holding up in the Mellark home?”_

_“It’s like I always say, Caesar. As long Katniss and I are together with Lucy Erryn, we’ll get through anything.”_

Caesar gives him a sad smile. _“Of course. You have my condolences and I’m sure the condolences of everyone in Panem.”_ Then Caesar turns to the camera, a bright smile on his face and he moves on to some meaningless gossip about an actor or some other nonsense.

I turn down the volume almost all the way, enough to hear Peeta, but not have to actually listen to the topics he’s having to talk about.

During a commercial, the phone rings. I consider not answering it, thinking it might be a reporter or another well-wisher that has gotten ahold of our number. But the ringing is persistent, so I make myself answer it. “Mellark household,” I answer.

_“Hi, is this Mrs. Mellark?”_

“Yes, who’s speaking?”

_“This is Dr. Morrow.”_

I take the phone to the sofa and sit down. “Is everything okay?”

_“Yes, but something came up on your bloodwork that I wanted to speak to you about. Is there anyway you and your husband can come into the hospital tomorrow?”_

“Yeah, we can come in at noon. Is that fine?” It would have to be during Peeta’s lunch break.

 _“That works fine. I’ll see you tomorrow._ ”

I hang up and wonder why she couldn’t tell me what she found in my bloodwork over the phone.

Before we go to bed that night, I tell Peeta about the phone call and the appointment.

“She didn’t say what it was?"

I shake my head. “She just said that everything was okay.”

Peeta seems concerned, but I don’t have any other information to give him, so he doesn’t ask more questions.

The next day at the hospital, we go up to the front desk and ask for Dr. Morrow.

The secretary types something into her computer then gives us an apologetic look. “Did you have an appointment with her?”

“Yeah, for noon today,” says Peeta.

More typing, then she looks back at us. “I’m sorry. She hasn’t come in. Would you like to reschedule with her?”

So we reschedule for noon in two days.

Peeta drives us back to the penthouse and we eat lunch together. Peeta doesn’t say much, but I can see all of his thoughts in the creased lines of his face. The worry is radiating off of him.

Or maybe it’s my own worry.

Two days later, we’re back at the hospital.

And as soon as Peeta says Dr. Morrow’s name, the secretary puts on a sympathetic expression. “Oh, I’m so sorry. You haven’t heard?”

“Heard what?” I ask.

“Dr. Morrow was found dead this morning. She had an underlying heart condition that not even she knew about and…I’m sorry. Dr. Pythian is in however and he’s catching up on your files. I’ll page him and he’ll be down momentarily.”

She doesn’t give us a chance to ask questions or stop her from calling Dr. Pythian.

Peeta and I sit in the small reception area. His prosthetic leg is bouncing almost perfectly in time with my pounding heart. I grab his hand, hoping to slow the pace of both my heart and his leg.

It works a little, but Peeta still leans close to whisper, “Something’s not right.”

I give a small nod of agreement. But we can’t talk about it here.

Dr. Pythian comes out a few moments later and motions for us to follow him to his office. He starts out by giving us his condolences. “I know how much you two wanted another child.”

And a wave of guilt hits me and I have to look down at my hand, clasping Peeta's like a lifeline.

Peeta clears his throat. “Dr. Morrow said she wanted to talk about Katniss’ bloodwork.”

Then Dr. Pythian starts reaffirming everything Dr. Morrow had told us before. The reason for the miscarriage, starting again in three months.

He talks about everything _except_ the bloodwork.

“But what about the bloodwork?” Peeta insists.

Dr. Pythian clasps his hands together. “Dr. Morrow was a good colleague and I don’t want to speak ill of the dead, but she wasn’t the best at her job. Looking through the files this morning, I did find something strange in your bloodwork, Mrs. Mellark. But the strange thing about it was that it wasn’t even yours. Dr. Morrow switched your results with another patients by accident. There is absolutely nothing wrong with your bloodwork.”

I smile at him and hope it looks relieved.

We head back to the penthouse, tension filling the air. Dr. Morrow found something and now Dr. Pythian doesn’t want us to know about it.

We eat lunch together, but before I can actually start picking at my food, Peeta grabs my plate and fills it with more vegetables. I stare at it then at him. “I’m not going to finish all of this,” I tell him.

“Can you at least try?”

“No, I’m not even feeling that hungry right now and you know how much I hate throwing away food.” I grab my plate and take it back to the kitchen, scraping food back into the pan until it’s a reasonable amount.

I sit back down as Peeta stabs a carrot with his fork. His jaw is tight as he eats and he doesn’t look at me once. An annoyed sigh escapes my mouth as I set down my own fork. “Are you angry at me for not wanting to eat all of that food?”

“No, but I wish that you would start eating better.”

“Just be glad I am eating right now. I don’t have any kind of appetite right now, but I’m still here at the table, eating lunch with you.”

“Yes, but you have to make more of an effort to eat more fruits and vegetables.”

“Why?”

He loudly drops his fork onto his plate. “Because what if Dr. Morrow found out that you’re _dying_?”

I swallow hard. “What?’

“Yeah. Maybe she found out that you’re really sick or something and Dr. Pythian doesn’t want us to know and…I know I’ve said it before, but I can’t lose you, Katniss. I can’t and now we’ll never know if something’s wrong or why Dr. Morrow wanted to talk to us about your bloodwork.”

I push my plate aside to lean forward and cup Peeta’s face. “As much as I hate our current situation, I don’t have any plans on dying and leaving you alone with Lucy Erryn. If something was really wrong, Dr. Morrow would’ve told me right away over the phone. I am going to stay with you, just like you are going to stay with me.”

Peeta closes his eyes and lets out a deep breath. “Always,” he whispers.

Effie’s words start ringing in my ears. About moving on and being happy.

If anything, this afternoon just proved that that’s out of the question.

But I can still grab hold of this good thing and hold it for as long as the Capitol and Snow lets me.

So that’s exactly what I do.

I move in closer until our lips meet.

Warmth explodes in my body and I realize I want it to stay. I don’t want to go back to the cold numbness.

I don’t know how long we’re kissing for, but Peeta’s the one to break it first. He presses his forehead to mine and I keep my eyes closed, listening to him breathe.

“I love you, Katniss,” he whispers.

And I squeeze my eyes even tighter. Because I don’t know what to tell him. I’m afraid of the words that might come out if I open my mouth.

I’m afraid to say it because what if it’s used against me?

If Peeta understands this, I’m not sure. But then he places a quick kiss on my lips and pulls away completely. “I have to go back to work,” he says.

I nod and get up to follow him to the door. He lingers for a moment, reaching out to run his fingers down my braid. Then he smiles at me and walks away.

I close the door and take a deep breath. I want to always remember that look on his face. Hope mixed with love.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really did it. Two updates in two days! Don't get used to this! It's only because I'm really excited with this chapter and I actually just finished writing chapter 21 and oh my gosh......I am especially excited for that one and I want to hurry up and get there, but I'm really trying to pace myself so I don't end up posting all my chapters at once.
> 
> Hope you lovely readers enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think! ❤❤❤
> 
> ***TW: Suicide***

The touches and glances Peeta and I exchange linger more and more. Almost like that day when cameras were recording our every move in the penthouse.

But this time there are no cameras.

There’s still a question in my mind though of how real can this be? We’re basically prisoners together, forced to forever live as the start-crossed lovers. Would this have happened if the Capitol had never gotten involved?

My heart and mind are in complete disagreement over this. And it makes things hard. Because one day, we’ll snuggle close on his day off and only separate when Lucy Erryn comes in and jumps on the bed to squirm her way in between us. The next day I stiffen at his touch as he passes me in the kitchen and turn my head so he kisses my cheek instead of my lips when he leaves for work.

It’s not fair to him, this back and forth as I try to navigate my thoughts and feelings while still refusing myself to feel anything close to happiness.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him one night.

“For what?”

“For not knowing what to do with you sometimes.”

Peeta gives a half-smile, reaching up to tuck some hair behind my ear. “As long as you never shut me out, I’ll be okay.”

The three months of healing ends the night before the Victory Tour celebration at the Presidential Palace. Lucy Erryn is spending the night with Effie and Delia isn’t coming in the next day.

Even though I swore I would never put it on, I dig out the lace outfit Octavia gave me (that I have since learned is called lingerie) as a wedding gift from the very bottom of my drawer where I know Peeta never looks.

While he’s at work and Delia's out buying groceries, I lock myself in the bathroom and put it on.

By the time I’ve finally figured out how to put it on, Delia’s come back and even though I’m locked away in the bathroom, my face is burning as I look at myself in the mirror.

It’s uncomfortable and I don’t even think it’s worth all the trouble of putting it on. But as I run my fingers down the lace that’s covering my stomach and the marks that the pregnancies have left behind, I wonder if Peeta would like it.

The night of the party comes and I promise myself I will only have one alcoholic drink tonight. Then it’ll only be water or punch. I need a clear head tonight if I think I’ll actually be ready to take the first step to begin the process all over again.

But not just for that, but because…I _want_ Peeta in that way now. Maybe I always have but have been too afraid to admit it and face everything it means.

And maybe it'll make me brave enough to say the words that have lingered on the tip of my tongue since I can remember

We mingle, always staying close together with some kind of physical contact. His hand on my back, my arm linked through his, our fingers laced together.

The escort for Eleven comes up to us, Rusa, dragging the Victor along with her.

His name is Jayx. Looking at him, I’m reminded of Thresh. The same cold stare and solemn expression on his face.

But his expression does soften a little when he sees me and Peeta. I remember during the interviews, he didn’t say anything, but Peeta did manage to at least get a tiny smile out of him.

“Jayx, it’s nice to meet you. I hope you’re enjoying yourself,” I say with a smile of my own.

Rusa shakes her head. “He hasn’t spoken one word or at least smiled at anyone here. You would think we’re keeping him prisoner here by the way he’s acting!”

I close my eyes, knowing exactly what he must be feeling.

Then Peeta says, “I mean, judging by the tight schedule he’s on, all the peacekeepers everywhere, and you always at his side telling him what he can and can’t do, can you really blame him for feeling like a prisoner?”

I nudge Peeta in the ribs, but he’s smiling at Rusa as if he’s just told a joke. I look at Jayx and he’s smirking.

Rusa gives Peeta a tight smile. “You would know all about that, wouldn’t you Mr. Mellark?”

“Well, I wouldn’t call myself an expert, but yes, I think I do.” His smile grows and when Jayx lowers his head as he coughs, badly covering up a snicker, his smile grows even more.

Rusa clears her throat. “Come along, Jayx. There’s other important people you need to meet.”

“Nice talking with you, Mr. and Mrs. Mellark,” Jayx says before Rusa can pull him away.

From the glare Rusa shoots the three of us, I’m almost positive those are his first words of the evening and will most likely be his only words.

Once they’re gone, I turn to Peeta and lightly shove him. “What is your problem?” My voice is light though and I’m trying not to smile.

Peeta shrugs as he grabs his second spritzer of the night. “I don’t regret it for a second. Because not only did I get Jayx to smile, but you’re smiling too.”

His smile is the brightest I’ve seen in a long time. My heart stutters a little and I want to kiss him.

So I do.

It’s a chaste kiss, but when I pull back, it’s as if he’s glowing.

My cheeks begin to burn a little and I turn my face from him, linking my arm through his as we start to amble around with no particular destination in mind. “When can we leave?”

“You know we have to wait for the fireworks display. Then we can leave.”

I rest my head on his shoulder as we walk. “There’s no way we can sneak out earlier?”

He takes on an exaggerated Capitol accent and says, “And go against our tight schedule?”

I roll my eyes and laugh a little.

“Let me catch a few people I need to talk to for work really quick and then we can sneak out.” Peeta turns to face me again. “Do you want to join me?”

I shake my head. “I’m done for the evening. I’ll wait for you.”

Peeta nods, giving a quick kiss to my cheek. “I’ll be quick. Promise.” Then he walks away and I see him easily immersing himself into the crowd again.

I find a secluded garden with some benches that everyone is passing by. I sit down, hoping no one else comes up to me.

But seconds later, a woman comes and sits next to me.

She gives me an air kiss on the cheek and I have to plaster on a smile. “Katniss! I see you, but I don’t see your other half.”

I’ve seen her countless times at different events here, but I still don’t know her name. “Oh, he was going to say goodbye to some people and I’m kind of tired of walking around in these heels.”

She laughs and I have to bite my tongue from grimacing at the sound. “If that’s what it takes for you to finally unlatch from him, then I suggest you wear more heels!”

I look at her, forcing a smile that I know doesn’t reach my eyes. “Well, he is my _husband_ and out of everyone that attends these events, I much prefer talking to him.”

She laughs again. “You are too much, Katniss,” she says, giving my arm a shove.

I don’t laugh with her. In fact, I consider getting up and finding Peeta, no matter how much my feet are hurting.

“I suppose I don’t think it’s all that fair that you get to have him all to yourself this entire time. I mean, do you honestly plan on _never_ sharing?”

I blink at her. My mind is refusing to process her words. “What?”

She laughs again, her pink lipstick stretching over her lips. She waves her hand at my question. “Darling, we _all_ share here! Do you really think that just because you’re married to him means that only you get to have him? Hell, at some point, he’s going to have to share you too!”

My mouth feels like it’s full of ash. That’s not going to happen. Not as long as I have another baby.

But she looks so sure of herself and that’s when I realize something.

Peeta will never be mine. Just as I’ll never be Peeta’s.

Because we both belong to the Capitol.

“Peeta!” Her trilling voice pulls me out of my thoughts. She stands up, smoothing down her dress. “We were just talking about you.”

Peeta approaches us, gives the woman a polite smile, but focuses on me.

As I turn to look at him, I see a question forming in his face. Before he can ask, she cuts in.

“I hope you’re not leaving so soon. The fireworks haven’t even started yet!” She steps forward and places a hand on his arm.

Peeta takes a step back. “I’m afraid my _wife_ is feeling extra tired tonight.” He holds out a hand for me and I take it. “Ready?”

I nod and link my arm through his. I don’t look at the woman again and I hope I’ll never see her again.

But deep in my heart, I know that I will. Because this is the Capitol and we are it’s playthings.

“Are you okay?” Peeta asks in the elevator to the penthouse.

“I’m just tired.”

And we go straight to bed. I abandon the plans I had for the night. Because how can I allow myself to give in like that only for the Capitol to take him away, no matter what we do?

We’ll never please Snow enough to stop it from happening.

Our only chance at having as much time as possible before it does happen is for me to get pregnant.

We start the next day slowly. There's no rush since Effie told us she would bring Lucy Erryn back around dinnertime. But once I'm out of bed, I try and keep myself occupied. I start working on a new design by mixing together different fabrics and trying to make something out of it all. Peeta keeps himself entertained, sitting on the small couch in the room with me, his knees drawn up close to balance his sketch pad.

I end up only frustrating myself, thinking about that woman and this prison we're trapped in, calculating how much time we have left before we have to announce I’m pregnant, and how much I wish we could run away and never look back.

I exhale loudly, plopping myself down next to Peeta. I crane my neck a little to see what he’s drawing.

But then he slouches and hides the drawing with his arm.

Now I _need_ to know. “Are you done?” I ask.

He shakes his head.

“Can I see?”

“Um...no.”

I blink. Peeta never denies me to look at his drawings. “Why not?”

He shrugs and his pencil keeps scratching away on the paper.

I wait for a little bit, watching for his body to relax and to tap the pencil against his mouth in thought.

And then I reach out and snatch the sketchbook from him.

“Katniss!” he exclaims, trying to grab it from me.

With one arm, I push against his chest to keep him from taking it back before I can get a good look at his drawing.

It’s of me. He drew me while I was trying to stich something together. “Why did you draw me looking mad?”

He huffs, giving up trying to get his sketchbook back. “Because you kind of did look mad.”

“I did not!”

“You looked as if that piece of fabric personally offended you.”

I glare at him, then snatch the pencil that he’s tucked behind his ear. Carefully, I erase the frown he’s drawn on my face and replace it with a smile.

The best smile I can, which is basically the letter ‘u’.

“There, I fixed it.” I say, tossing it back to him.

He catches it and with one look, he bursts into laughter. “Katniss, this looks terrible!”

He’s right. I didn’t bother ‘fixing’ the pinched eyebrows or my narrowed eyes. And with the smile that I added, against his detailed lines and shadows, it does look kind of funny. “Okay, well why don’t you try designing outfits and see how frustrating it is.”

“Don’t you remember that your most popular dress so far was the one that we worked on _together_?”

I grab the pillow that’s supporting my back and toss it at him.

He laughs even more.

And it’s one of most beautiful sounds I’ve heard in a really long time.

“I know we’re married and as your husband, I should be supportive of everything you do, but we said we would always be honest with each other. Katniss, some of these outfits you design…I question the people that are buying them.”

I laugh a little too. “Thank goodness my clients are Capitolites and almost anything can pass as a fashion statement here.” Then in a quieter voice, I add. “I never wanted to be a designer. I wish I could go hunting. I could make good money off of the meat and furs.” Especially since there's still no meat coming in from District Ten.

And that’s when I realize it’s been almost four years since I’ve even held a bow.

“Maybe we could go visit Johanna. I’m sure you could figure out a way to go hunting in those forests.”

“And what would you and Lucy Erryn be doing?”

“Join you, obviously.”

I laugh again. “Out of everyone I know, you, Peeta Mellark, have the heaviest footsteps. And Lucy Erryn probably wouldn’t even know what to do with being surround by so much _real_ nature. There’s no way either of you would come with me.”

“Then we’ll just hang out with Johanna while you hunt. Maybe Lucy Erryn will even start calling her Aunt Jo."

I throw another pillow at Peeta, but he catches it this time.

Once again, he laughs.

And I feel a little breathless and warmth spreads through my veins as I listen to him laugh.

I want to kiss him, but as soon as I realize that desire, I remember last night.

He will never be mine. And I will never be his.

We belong only to the Capitol, for them to do whatever they please with us.

Even if it makes us become hollow shells of ourselves.

I look away and get up to finish the skirt I was working on, breaking the small pocket of peace and maybe even it's even happiness that I'm pulling away from.

We barely make the deadline of announcing my pregnancy within three months. And I try to convince myself that I do want this baby. Thinking like that might help me carry this baby to full-term.

But then a month before the 79th Hunger Games, I find myself back in the hospital, just as I’ve reached the third month of my pregnancy.

Peeta’s at work when it happens.

I try calling him, but the line is busy and the pain is ripping through me. Delia takes the phone from me and dials the emergency services, handing it back to me so I can request an ambulance.

As soon as I do, I hang up and try calling Peeta again and again and again.

Nothing.

Delia spreads out towels on the sofa and helps me lay down. It’s so much blood that I’m sure it’s soaking through to the sofa.

When the ambulance comes, I still haven’t been able to get ahold of Peeta. Because she’s an Avox, Delia isn’t allowed to come with me.

Being alone with these people I don’t know combined with all the blood I’m once again losing and the pain throws me into a panic attack.

They keep on telling me to take deep breaths and that we're almost at the hospital. But I can’t focus on their words. I can only focus on the pain and being so _alone_.

A mask is placed over my mouth and nose and the world and all the pain I’m feeling blurs away into nothing.

And somehow, I’m in an open field. But the ground is burnt to ashes and it’s snowing. I can hear someone laughing and it takes me longer than it should for me to realize it’s Prim. I call out for her, but she only laughs in response. I can’t find her. I try moving, but I’m stuck in place. Listening to Prim laughing and laughing.

Then she’s standing in front of me. Her face is stained with ash and I can see her lips moving, but I can’t hear a word she’s saying. There’s only a loud roar and smoke starts billowing from her mouth. I try to scream, but nothing comes out.

Prim smiles at me and she extends her hand for me to grab.

Before I can, I’m surrounded by bright lights and beeping sounds and a hand is squeezing mine that does not belong to Prim’s.

I want to go back to that field. Even if I felt surrounded by death, I want to go back.

Because that’s where my little sister is. And I was so close to holding her hand and being with her again.

“Katniss?”

It’s Peeta. And when he sees me open my eyes, his face lights up and he presses my knuckles to his lips.

“You’re awake,” he whispers.

I don’t know how much time has passed, but I do know from the look on his face that I lost the baby.

Again.

Tears begin flowing down my face.

I’m crying because I couldn't convince myself and this baby enough that I wanted it. I still miss Prim so much. Lucy Erryn is becoming more and more like a Capitolite every day. The Capitol continuously brings so much pain into our lives. And I want to _want_ Peeta, but not when I know he can’t ever be mine and mine alone.

Peeta starts moving and my entire body is ready to be enveloped in his steady presence.

But then the door opens and Dr. Pythian comes in.

A muffled sound of frustration bubbles in Peeta’s throat and I turn my face away so Dr. Pythian can’t see me cry.

He clears his throat awkwardly and I almost think he’s going to excuse himself for interrupting a very private moment.

“Mrs. Mellark, I’m glad you’re awake,” he says instead. And then proceeds to check things and explains what went wrong with this pregnancy. He assures us both that there is still nothing wrong with me and that I can successfully carry to term. These last three pregnancies were only a fluke. In three months, we can try again.

Once he’s gone, I ask, “Where’s Lucy Erryn?”

“She’s with Effie. I tried bringing her in, but Dr. Pythian said the same thing about Lucy Erryn’s implants messing with the hospital equipment.”

I scoff, remembering Dr. Morrow saying the complete opposite and seeing for myself that her implants did nothing to the equipment here.

I despise Dr. Pythian.

Peeta doesn’t leave my side at all. Effie stops by, leaving Lucy Erryn with Delia. It’s obvious she’s been crying, but she manages to hold it together while she’s in the room with me and Peeta. She brings a change of clothes for both of us and some food for Peeta.

“I’ve already had the sofa taken care of and brought some catalogs for the two of you to pick out a new one,” she says before leaving. She hands it to me, hovers for a moment, then leans down to hug me in my propped up position in the bed. Then she pulls back and wipes her eyes. “I just don’t understand. You two deserve to have all the happiness in the world.”

Before either of us can respond, she clears her throat and says her goodbyes.

We don’t touch the catalog after she leaves.

I’m released the next day and at the penthouse, Lucy Erryn is waiting with her arms wide open.

For Peeta.

I hate that I’m bothered by it, but I remind myself that I have done nothing to make myself the preferred parent in her eyes.

Before Peeta can pry her off of his legs and tell her to hug me, I mumble that I’m tired and I lie down in the room with the sound machine’s volume turned up.

I'm able to use the miscarriage as an excuse to not attend the Opening Ceremony for the 79th Games. I wouldn't be able to stomach the pitying looks and whispers from everyone.

Thankfully, Peeta doesn't have to go to the after party either. I can only imagine what those people might do if he did go alone. But we still stay up late that night, eating cookies and watching the fireworks from the balcony with Lucy Erryn nodding off between us.

Just before we go back inside after the show is over, Peeta tells, "Snow talked with me after the parade. We have until February."

I close my eyes. I can't do it again. Having another miscarriage. Going through the process and thinking of all the other people in the Capitol that are just waiting to have Peeta.

"You still need to heal. We don't even have to think about it yet."

He's right. There are other things to worry about.

Because this year, the Hunger Games is very different.

The Tributes are not giving the Capitol the show they want.

They aren't killing each other. There isn't even a bloodbath at the Cornucopia at the beginning. Alliances are still formed, but the main concern is about surviving the environment. Not actively seeking out other tributes.

Not even the Careers are killing.

Of course, the Gamemakers turn the arena against the tributes, throwing in different Capitol mutts and start fires and floods and at one point there’s even an earthquake that kills four tributes.

But the tributes _aren’t_ killing each other

By the time there’s only two tributes left, the Games have been dragged out to almost a month. The Gamemakers hold a feast, trying to wring out one final show from the tributes.

And they do put up a show.

I immediately know something is wrong when the two remaining tributes come walking to the Cornucopia, calmly. They come to the table and stare at the items that have been labeled for them.

District Four. District Nine.

The two children move closer. And then they’re hugging.

I lean forward on the sofa, reaching for Delia’s hand and holding it tight. What are they thinking? Don’t they understand the punishment they’ll receive from Snow?

They let go of each other and the Tribute from Four pulls something out of his pocket.

I inhale sharply as I catch a glimpse of it.

Nightlock berries.

Without hesitation, they both stuff the berries in their mouths and their bodies drop to the ground in seconds.

The camera cuts to Caesar and Peeta. The shock is evident on both their faces.

Caesar fumbles for words and begins speaking of unprecedented events. But I keep my eyes on Peeta. Especially as a defiant look blazes in his eyes.

My heart jumps to my throat. “Don’t Peeta,” I whisper to the screen. “Don’t do it.”

He stares straight into the camera and he lifts three fingers to his lips…

Then the camera cuts to a replay of some of the "best moments" of this year's Games.

“Peeta!” I yell, standing to my feet and staring at the screen.

Delia stands up and turns me to face her and she starts signing over and over, “He’s fine. He’s fine. He’s fine.”

But Snow will never forgive Peeta for this. And I’m sure he’s already furious with how the Games turned out this year.

I can't imagine how we'll survive the consequences of this.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are about to start moving pretty fast here with these next chapters! I'm really excited for them and hope you lovelies enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them! 
> 
> Not going to lie, this chapter definitely hurt me a bit while writing it. But it's building up for future events! 
> 
> Thank you always for kudos/comments! I'd definitely love to hear what you think of this next chapter! Much love my dears!!

I start pacing the entire penthouse, waiting for Peeta to walk through the front doors or the phone to ring to say they’ve taken him.

Anything would be better than not knowing what's happened.

The phone rings after half an hour.

My blood freezes as I stare at the phone.

Before I can reach for it. Lucy Erryn comes running in and answers.

“Hello!”

I’m about to snatch the phone away, but then her face brightens at the voice of whoever was calling and I hesitate. “Uh-huh, she’s here…m’kay!” She turns to hand me the phone. “S’ Auntie Effie.”

My body sags with relief as I take the phone. “Effie?”

_”Katniss, how are you, my dear?”_

I can hear the tightness in her voice. I take a deep breath and answer. “I’m fine. And you?”

_“Fine, thank you. I was calling to see if Peeta’s come home yet? I've heard there's rioting going on with how the Games ended."_

I swallow hard and stare at the front door, as if I could will him to appear. “No, not yet."

Effie lets out a shaky breath. _“Okay, well…I was checking and…let me know when he does.”_

“Okay,” I say, unable to take my eyes away from the front door.

 _“Please be careful,”_ she says softly _. “And tell_ him _to be more careful too!”_

“I will.” I end the call, still staring at the front door.

Lucy Erryn is dancing around, throwing some torn paper in the air as if it’s confetti. She opens the door to the balcony and steps out, throwing the paper into the sky. “Happy Hunger Games!” she calls out.

I can’t deal with the noise of all the celebrations going on in the city. So I go to the only place where I know it’ll be quiet.

The panic room.

And since the Games are officially over, the broadcast won’t be showing in there anymore. I shut myself in and bury my head under the pillow until the only thing I can hear is my racing heart.

I’m not sure how much times passes before the door slides open.

It’s Peeta.

Within seconds, I’m in his arms, holding him tightly, shaking and reassuring myself that he is here and he is alive.

Then I pull back and hit him in the chest. “What were you thinking?!” I hiss.

He at least has the decency to look apologetic. “I’m sorry, I…they aren’t going to do anything to you or Lucy Erryn.”

I shake my head. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

He doesn’t look at me.

“Peeta.” I grab his chin and make him look at me. “What are they going to do?”

His throat bobs as he swallows and stares right at me. “I don’t know. I have a meeting with the producers in two weeks. Guess we'll find out then."

I’m hugging him tightly again and cursing him for trying to defy the Capitol. “You can’t leave me,” I whisper.

He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “No matter what happens, I’ll come back to you. Always.”

Then Lucy Erryn runs in and grabs Peeta’s hand wanting him to draw with her.

I call Effie and tell her Peeta’s back. She demands to talk to him and I trade places with him, sitting at the dining table while Lucy Erryn draws.

Peeta repeats only three phrases the entire time he talks with Effie. Yes. I know. I’m sorry.

Good. I’m glad Effie is berating him for what he did.

That night, I ask him why as I intertwine our fingers together.

“Because that was us, years ago,” he says. “Just kids that had no idea about any rebellion and wishing an adult would stand up too.”

And I want to tell him that it should’ve been someone else. Not him, because the cost of it is too high.

But if not him, then who would do it? Effie? One of the other Victors? Me?

“Damn you for being so good,” I whisper before kissing him.

What normally would've been the Victor's Crowning, President Snow addresses all of Panem. He expresses his disappointment, but says these actions will not go without consequence.

"The Games are a reminder for everyone, here in the Capitol and the Districts, of how far we have come as a society. And every year, one Tribute is allowed to leave. Yet this year, not one has survived. A manipulation on the part of the rebels, I believe. What does it say about them? That they lied to these Tributes until they all agreed to die this year. What will their families receive? Our Victors always receive the best treatment and their families are always cared for. What will the rebels do for them? I'll tell you what they'll do. They'll only bring pain and destruction. We must stand united against these rebels. Any rebel sympathizers will be punished. The time for mercy has passed.

"But that is not all. It seems to me that the only reason the rebels were able to manipulate these Tributes in this way is because the Districts have forgotten of the compassion and goodness the Capitol has shown them. The following months will consist of reminders. Reminders of what we here in the Capitol are protecting you from."

Snow's controlling grip is faltering now more than ever. Panem is on the brink of civil war.

And when, not if, the battle lines are drawn, where do Peeta and I stand?

The two weeks pass quickly and before we know it, Peeta is leaving Friday morning for his meeting with the producers.

He lingers in the doorway after he says goodbye to me and Lucy Erryn.

“Better get going,” I say as I straighten out his green tie. “Don’t want to be late.”

He shrugs. “I’m already in enough trouble. I don’t think being a few minutes late is going to make much of a difference.”

I tighten the knot of his tie and he pulls back at the pressure on his throat. “Sorry,” he says with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll be back for lunch,” he says.

Before he can walk away, I press a quick kiss to his lips. "I'll wait for you."

I can see the worry and fear in his eyes. But not once do I catch a glimpse of regret.

There are designs I need to work on, but I can’t keep my hands from shaking as I try to cut a piece of fabric. I try to focus, but I keep leaving the work shop to check if Peeta’s come back.

And then Delia is serving the plates for lunch and he’s still not back yet.

“I’m going to wait for Peeta,” I tell her.

She eats with Lucy Erryn and then it’s time for her nap. Two hours later, Lucy Erryn wakes up again and Peeta still isn’t back and my stomach is in knots.

Delia starts heating up a plate of food, but I tell her I can’t eat. She starts to insist, but I shake my head. “I’m waiting for Peeta. He said he would be back for lunch.”

I don’t even have an appetite right now.

The hours continue to pass and I put Lucy Erryn to bed.

As her eyes are sliding shut, she taps her thumb against her forehead with her palm open, her brows furrowed in a question. _Daddy?_

Instead of answering her, I bring an open palm to my face and drag it down, closing it into a fist. _Sleep_.

I leave the room when I’m sure that she’s asleep. Delia’s still here, three hours past the time she normally leaves. I sit on the couch next to her, eyes focused on the TV to the movie that’s playing. “You can leave already if you want,” I tell in what has to be the tenth time that evening.

Delia shakes her head. “ _It’s fine,_ ” she signs. Then she points to me, cups her hand and drags it down her chest.

I shake my head. “I don’t think I could eat, even if I was hungry.”

She nods, then turns her attention back to the TV.

Somehow, I fall asleep. But in my dream, I see Peeta in this years arena. His mouth is stained with the black of nightlock berries. He keeps stuffing handfuls of the berries in his mouth and I yell at him to stop. But every time I open my mouth, it’s the sound of the canon and he drops to the ground, as if dead. Then he gets up, eats more berries, and drops. He does it over and over and I can’t stop trying to yell, making the canon sound.

I jolt awake. “Peeta!”

But it’s Delia hovering over me. And before I know it, she has her arms wrapped around me as I break down into sobs.

Peeta hasn’t come back. And I don’t know if he ever will.

I’m in and out of nightmares. By the time the sun starts rising, I give up on trying to sleep.

Delia places a cup of tea in my hands. I only take a few sips, watching the sky turn from purple to pink to blue.

There’s no orange in the sky for this sunrise.

I barely register Delia signing that she’ll be right back before leaving.

The tea has gone cold, but I still hold the cup as I stare out at the morning sky.

Peeta hasn’t come back.

I don’t know if he is coming back.

What am I going to do without him?

How can I take care of Lucy Erryn without him?

I can't survive the Capitol taking away another person that I love.

The front door opens and I spin around, spilling some of the tea in my lap.

It’s just Delia, freshly changed and a small bag over her shoulder. She offers a smiles and asks if I’m hungry again.

I shake my head and look back outside.

Peeta isn’t back yet.

It’s an hour later when Lucy Erryn comes out of her room. She comes out in pajamas and holding her processors in her hands.

Peeta is the one who helps her with them in the morning.

She looks around, frowning at Delia’s presence in the kitchen. Where Peeta normally is in the morning. She curls up next to me on the couch and again taps her thumb to her forehead with her hand open.

_Daddy?_

I help her with the processors, making sure the magnets are on right and won’t fall off. “Go brush your teeth so you can eat some breakfast.”

She still frowns but isn’t awake enough to argue.

I don’t move from the couch. Lucy Erryn sits at the dining table with Delia and I hear them eating breakfast. It’s quiet and if Peeta were here, he would be talking with Lucy Erryn, making her laugh and asking her all kinds of questions about her plans for today.

When she finishes, Lucy Erryn stands in front of me and yanks on my hand. “Where’s Daddy?” she asks.

“It’s time to change.”

She shakes her head. “Where’s Daddy?” she insists.

Delia comes up to her and tries to usher her to her room, but Lucy Erryn, squirms away. “Where’s Daddy?!”

I reach forward and grab both of her hands. “He went away on a trip,” I lie.

She frowns. “Why?”

Because he tried to defy the Capitol. Because we live in the most dangerous place in the world. Because Snow is always looking for a reason to harm us. Because he will always be better than me and stand up when things aren't fair. “He just did,” I say softly.

She huffs. “Without me?”

I press a kiss to her forehead. “Go change.”

I don’t move from the couch all day, only getting up a handful of times to use the restroom. Delia leaves plates of food for me. Toast with jam. Lentil soup. Strawberries.

I only manage a few bites the entire day.

And Peeta still doesn’t come back.

Delia keeps Lucy Erryn entertained, but when it’s time for her to go to sleep for the night, she puts up a fight.

“I want Daddy!” I hear her scream from her room.

I close my eyes. I want him too.

She keeps screaming and crying and I wish that was enough to bring Peeta back.

But the front door doesn’t budge.

I get up and go to her room. She sees me come in, but doesn’t stop crying.

If anything, it makes her cry even more.

I give a small nod to Delia and she leaves the room. I sit down on the edge of Lucy Erryn’s bed, where Delia just got up from.

“I want Daddy!” Lucy Erryn screams as she pounds her fists on the mattress.

I pull her into my lap, holding her close even as she fights against me. And I hold her until all the fight has left and she’s crying quietly in my arms.

“I want Daddy,” she whispers as she wipes her nose on my sleeve.

“Do you want to wait with me for him?”

She nods.

I grab her sweater blanket and carry her with me into the living room and sit on the couch. She curls up into my side and I take off her processors so she can go to sleep.

Delia joins me a few minutes later and starts flipping through the channels for a movie to watch.

I don’t bother telling her she can leave. She brought enough stuff to stay for several nights.

And I don’t want to be alone.

The days start blurring together and Peeta doesn’t come back. I forget to charge Lucy Erryn’s processors, but she doesn’t seem to mind not having to wear them. She’s quieter without them on, but by the fourth day that Peeta hasn’t come back, she’s playing with Delia like normal. She accepted the fact that Peeta went away on a trip and that he’s coming back soon.

But with every day that passes without him coming through the front door, the hope in me dies, little by little.

I think of what happened to Cinna. How he just disappeared one day and never came back. Is that what happened to Peeta? I'll never know for sure what happened to him. If he’s alive and suffering or did they have mercy and make it a quick end for him.

A full week goes by. The logical part of me says I need to figure out what to do next. I need to redo the budget to figure out how to pay the bills on my own. I need a story to tell Lucy Erryn when she starts school and Peeta still hasn’t come back. Effie and Portia are eventually going to come by and I need to come up with something to tell them.

But I can’t bring myself to move. Because Peeta is gone and I don’t think he’s ever coming back.

Delia asks me if I want anything specific from the grocery store. I shake my head, not taking my eyes away from Lucy Erryn as she draws on the floor.

A few minutes after she leaves, Lucy Erryn shows me her drawing. It’s the three of us. Me, her, and Peeta. Smiling under a shining sun. Safe. Happy. Together.

She turns around to start on another picture. Just in time to miss the tears that start falling.

I don’t think Peeta is coming back.

The thought makes my body curl into itself, as if trying to protect me from the world outside. But nothing can protect me. I live according to the whims of the Capitol. Once they’re done with me, I’m disposable.

Just like what they did with Peeta.

The front door opens and I don’t bother looking up. It’s probably just Delia come back from the grocery store.

But Lucy Erryn turns and her face lights up and even though she doesn’t have her processors on, she calls out, “Daddy!”

My breath catches in my throat as I sit up and turn to see Lucy Erryn running to _Peeta_.

He’s here. He’s back. He’s _alive_.

I stare at him as he catches Lucy Erryn when she launches herself into his arms. He winces, but holds her tight, burying his face in her hair.

I wait for him to disappear. To turn into ash and float away on the wind.

He doesn’t.

I slowly get up.

Peeta’s back.

He looks at me as I walk towards him, waiting for him to still disappear. I’m close enough to reach out and touch his face.

I see the dark rings under his eyes. His skin pulled tight over his face. The fading bruise on his left cheek. His swollen lower lip where it’s been split. Dried blood under his nose.

My arms wrap around him tightly and he holds me with his free arm. I’m sobbing and telling him to never do that again.

I pull him to the couch where we all collapse, Lucy Erryn sitting in his lap and me pressing my ear against his chest to hear his steady and real heartbeat. He has his arms wrapped around us both, trembling and kissing us both and reassuring us that he’s really here.

Delia comes back an hour later and when she sees Peeta, she surprises us all by giving him a hug too. But then she pulls back and her hands are moving quickly with signs and her face is angry and there’s one thing that we all catch.

_Don’t do that again._

It’s impossible to pull Lucy Erryn away from him the entire day. I don’t leave his side at all either. And at night, we all sleep together in the room with Lucy Erryn between us.

After she’s gone to sleep, I ask him what happened.

He doesn’t look at me when he answers. “Another re-education course.”

I squeeze his hand, reminding him that he’s here with me. That he’s safe.

He inhales sharply and looks at me, tears filling his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Katniss. I shouldn’t have-“

I lean over Lucy Erryn and kiss him. “You’re back. That’s the only thing that matters.”

Our fingers link together, resting on Lucy Erryn’s stomach.

We both fall asleep out of exhaustion. The first rays of the morning sun peeks in and it wakes me up. I see traces of orange in the sky.

And Peeta’s still here.

But there are more consequences for what Peeta did.

He's being sent to the Districts. He'll be giving speeches and inaugurating new bases and stations and barracks for the Peacekeepers.

He'll be gone for a whole month.

"When?" I ask him as I bring a cup of tea.

He blows at the rising steam and takes a careful sip. "Next week."

Anger bubbles inside of me. Just this morning, I had to help him get up from the couch. I felt his muscles trembling and twitching from the movements and saw how he clenched his jaw to mask his pain.

Whatever his injuries are, they won't be healed by the time he has to leave.

But what can be done?

Something else clicks though. "You're going to miss Lucy Erryn's birthday."

Peeta doesn't look at me and nods.

The only good thing I can see in this is that we have time to let Lucy Erryn know about his trip.

It doesn't seem to click for her though until he's holding his suitcase the morning he has to leave, a Peacekeeper waiting in the hall for him.

"Don't go!" she wails into his legs.

I have to bend down and pry her off of him. She only struggles a little in my arms before Peeta cups her face. "It's going to be okay. I'll be back soon and you won't even know I'm gone. You get to go back to school today and then you're going to have a lot of fun with Mommy and Auntie Effie and Delia."

She pouts, but it seems like the fight has left her.

Peeta smiles in approval and kisses her cheek. "I love you, Lucy Erryn."

"Love you too," she grumbles, still not happy that he's leaving.

I'm not happy with it either. Especially since I know he's still in pain and whatever bruises he has haven't healed yet. Because he's still extra careful with how he moves and doesn't change shirts in front of me. Trying to hide the damage.

And just like when he left for his meeting with the producers, I lean forward and press a quick kiss to his lips. "I'll wait for you."

He gives a wry smile. "I'll let you know how the outside world is."

I want to tell him I don't care. I can live a lifetime and not hear anything about the outside world. If it only meant he didn't have to do this stupid tour.

If it meant he would stay with me always.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what if I were to tell you that I'm actually going to post another chapter tomorrow...? Because it's so good and I think a lot of you will be pleased with it and I'm just so excited for everyone to read it already! But, there's still this chapter to read first of course. 
> 
> Every single kudos and comment always makes me so happy! Thank you my dear readers!! Let me know what think of this chapter and keep an eye out for an extra chapter this weekend! 💕💕💕

The month drags by. Lucy Erryn goes back to school and I have my design work. But I can hardly work on anything, my mind constantly thinking about Peeta and if he’s okay and I’m falling behind on deadlines, but I don’t care. And thankfully, the clients that have asked for these designs are patient.

When I call to ask for an extension on the deadline, I can already imagine them waving their hand in the air as they say they completely understand. Because there’s still the miscarriage I’m healing from and the Games this year were traumatic for everyone and now my husband is away.

I have to make myself a cup of chamomile tea after those phone calls. Something to calm me, but the only thing that will work is Peeta's reassuring touch.

The broadcasts of the events in the Districts aren’t required viewing for those living in the Capitol, but I watch every single one. If only to see Peeta and to make sure he’s okay and still alive. And maybe to catch sight of what’s going on in the Districts too. The cameras only ever show Peeta, Peacekeepers, Victors, and the mayor of that District and there’s only quick shots of the people.

Even with those quick shots, it’s clear that things are getting worse.

Every night, Peeta’s allowed to call us for one hour.

It’s what Lucy Erryn looks forward to the most every day.

When he calls, she tells him every single detail about her day. How she's getting homework now because she's a big kid and about to go to kinder, the joke her best friend Ofi told, the way a cloud looked like a butterfly riding a bird. And Peeta always asks her questions about the details, and Lucy Erryn ends up talking for almost the whole hour.

Leaving me and Peeta with only a few minutes to talk.

Neither of us asks how the other is doing. We both know the answer to that question. So why bother lying?

And when we talk, I can hear how guarded his voice is and the background chatter. There’s always Peacekeepers around him. For his ‘protection.’

They’re really just guards for a prisoner though.

After we share a few words, highlights of the day or significant plans for the next day, Peeta always ends the call by telling me exactly how many days and hours are left before he comes back and says, _“I miss you_.”

I always respond, “I miss you too.”

Because, God, I miss him so much. Especially at night. I lay in bed, waiting for the hours to pass. Sometimes, I’m tired enough that I do end up sleeping. But I wake up screaming from nightmares I can’t remember or wish I could forget.

Sometimes, Lucy Erryn sleeps with me. She always brings her blanket I made for her from Peeta’s sweater when they first took him from us. Those are the nights that I manage to sleep without any kind of dreams. Because somehow, his scent has lingered and I understand why Lucy Erryn hardly goes anywhere without it.

Aside from taking and picking up Lucy Erryn from preschool, I don’t leave the penthouse. Except for once, halfway through Peeta’s trip.

I visit Tigris’ shop

When I walk through the door, I’m surprised to see Cressida there.

The two women look up, Cressida with a smile as she pockets a communicator, and Tigris with a pinched expression.

Cressida then turns back to Tigris. “I should get going. You’ll let me know when that fabric shipment gets in?”

Tigris’ lips curl into a slight snarl. “I still haven’t decided if I’ll receive the shipment. I don’t trust that manufacturer’s practices.”

Cressida’s smile tightens. “It doesn’t matter though. So long as they do what needs to be done to provide the shipment.”

“When you’ve lived as long as I have, you’ll figure out that isn’t true at all.”

For a split second, Cressida’s smile falters. But she rolls her eyes with a bemused expression and leaves.

Tigris is still scowling after Cressida leaves, but then finally turns to me. “Katniss, what can I help you with?”

“I’m looking for some bright blue,” I say, already scanning the aisles and shelves for the exact shade. “I didn’t know you knew Cressida?”

“An acquaintance of an acquaintance.”

Before I can think of any other questions, she pulls out a crate of blue sample pieces.

It’s odd enough that I bring it up when I talk with Peeta that night.

_“I didn’t think Cressida was crafty at all.”_

“I don’t think she is.”

And there’s a question on the tip of my tongue that’s too dangerous to say.

Judging by the heavy breath Peeta lets out, I know he’s thinking the same thing.

But we can not say or do anything. Already, we’re on thin ice. I don’t want to fid out what Snow will do this time if we make another mistake.

I can not handle something else happening.

Lucy Erryn’s fourth birthday comes a few days just before Peeta is scheduled to come back. And while we both were preparing her for this, she's still upset the Peeta isn’t here.

_“I promise that as soon as I get back, I’ll make you your favorite cake and we’ll go to the park and I’ll even buy you a set of paints.”_

“But it’s my birthday _today_!” Lucy Erryn cries.

_“I know, honey, but I’m coming back really soon.”_

Lucy Erryn takes off her processors though and storms off.

I don’t follow after her, knowing it won’t do any good.

At the lack of response, Peeta figures out what happens.

He grumbles a curse and I can already imagine the frustration on his face as he rakes his fingers through his hair.

“She’ll be over it by tomorrow,” I say.

_“No she won’t. She’ll remember this forever and is going to hate me.”_

I scoff. “You hung the moon and the stars in her eyes. There’s no way she could ever hate you.” Because if she does end up hating one of us, it’ll be me.

Now that Lucy Erryn’s gone though, we have almost the full hour to talk.

So in an attempt to cheer Peeta up, I do exactly what Lucy Erryn would’ve done.

Tell him every single detail about the day. The small celebration we had for her today, the doll Effie bought her, and the card with money from Porta.

It took all of five minutes.

Peeta asked me questions and I answered until another lull in the conversation came.

After a few seconds of silence, Peeta starts laughing quietly.

“What?” I ask with a frown.

_“We’ve been married for almost four years and we can’t even manage to have a conversation for an hour.”_

I frown even more. “Yes we can. We’ve done it before.”

_“When?”_

I open my mouth to fire off the answer, but I can’t think of anything. Instead, I think of all the times we’ve sat together in silence. In the kitchen while he makes bread and I clean after him. The picnics on the balcony when he tries to catch blueberries in his mouth that Lucy Erryn throws. Him sitting on the couch in my work station drawing while I work on my designs. The nights when neither of us can sleep and we just lay in each others arms, watching the sky changing colors with the sunrise.

Peeta laughs again at the lack of my response.

“We don’t need to have hour long conversations,” I quickly tell him, indignation in my voice.

He picks it up, his laugh softening a little. _“Every marriage needs to have communication.”_

“But we don’t need to talk to communicate.”

He’s quiet. And I know it’s because he agrees with me.

We have something different.

Obviously, there are things that we have to talk about and we do. But we can sit in silence together for hours and without any need to fill the air with words.

And that idea makes my heart swell and my eyes blur with tears and, _God_ , I miss him.

_“I-“_ Then he clears his throat. _“I miss you so much, Katniss.”_

I know that wasn’t what he was going to say. “I miss you too.”

For a moment, I think he’s going to end the call. We still have just a little over half an hour to talk. Or to at least be on the phone with each other.

But I can hear him breathing still and it doesn’t seem like he has any plans on ending the call early.

So I go to the room, lie down where he always sleeps, turn on the sound machine to the forest, and put the phone on speaker so he can hear it too.

I hear his breathing relax.

A little while later, while Peeta is still on the phone, Lucy Erryn comes in the room. She starts climbing on the bed, but stops when she sees the phone.

I hold out my hand for her though and give her a reassuring smile.

She wipes at her eyes that are still red from crying and throws herself into my arms.

_“Lucy Erryn?”_

“Yeah, but she doesn’t have her processors on still.”

_“Tell her I love her.”_

I pull back so she can see me sign. Thumb tapping my forehead with my palm open. Crossing my arms over my chest. Then tapping her lightly on the nose.

She pouts, but signs a response.

I kiss her forehead and tell Peeta, “She say she loves you too.”

And I bite my tongue to keep another set of words from slipping.

Words that are dangerous and will be used against us.

He whispers a goodbye when it’s time for him to hang up. And like always, he tells me how many days and hours are left.

_“Three days and sixteen hours.”_

It’s going to feel like three eternities.

Those three eternities finally pass though and Peeta is finally walking through the front door again.

Just like I predicted, Lucy Erryn hugs him tightly, already forgiving him for not being there for her birthday. Especially after he promised it would never happen again.

I hug Peeta with Lucy Erryn still in his arms. She isn’t going to let go of him anytime soon. And I give him a small kiss before pulling back to look at him.

He doesn’t have the TV makeup on, allowing me to see how exhausted he looks.

But at least it seems like all his injuries from the re-education have healed.

“I want a chocolate chocolate chip cake!” Lucy Erryn exclaims, bouncing in his arms.

Peeta smiles and blows tiny raspberry on her cheek, causing her to squeal. “Guess I better get started on that then.”

Lucy Erryn helps, talking nonstop. I sit on the barstool and watch, getting up every now and then to stop Lucy Erryn from adding more chocolate while Peeta has his back turned or providing them with a wet rag to clean up splattered cake batter.

We eat the cake on the balcony and Peeta tells Lucy Erryn about everything he saw in the Districts. An ocean that stretches far beyond what the eye can see. Trees so tall, they could easily be as tall as some of the skyscrapers here in the Capitol. Canyons so deep it would take days to reach the bottom.

Lucy Erryn hangs on to every word he says.

And so do I.

That night, after Lucy Erryn falls asleep between us, I look at Peeta and see the distant look in his eyes.

I reach for his hand. “What is it?”

He doesn’t look at me as he shakes his head slowly. “They’re all dying out there,” he whispers. “Even in One and Two. Every night, there were public floggings or executions. People that were supposedly rebels, but...I think the majority were innocent. They still killed them though and..." His breath hitches as he lifts his arm to cover his eyes in an attempt to block out the memories.

"I couldn't do anything," he whispers. "I...they were watching me so closely and then I had no idea what they would do to you or Lucy Erryn if I stepped out of line. But I still should've done something."

"No," I tell him. I squeeze his hand and bring it to my lips. "You were there because you did something in the first place. And...I don't think I can survive something else happening to us." It's selfish of me, with all the people suffering in the Districts. But realistically, what can we do?

He moves to lay on his side and look at me. “We have to get ready, Katniss. Make sure there’s enough supplies in the panic room or…” His eyes dart away and he bites the inside of his cheek.

“Or what?”

He rolls over again to his back. “Nothing,” he answers.

He doesn’t let go of my hand though. Stroking the pearl of my wedding ring.

We have two months of normalcy after he comes back. The warmth is back, growing hotter every day. But I have to push it down to fight off the growing fear as well. Because I need to get pregnant again. But I’ve had three unsuccessful pregnancies now. What if this is unsuccessful pregnancy number four? And what if I do carry to term? What happens after this baby? Will we be expected to ‘share’?

The thought makes me want to gag.

For right now though, to stay out of trouble, I have to get pregnant again.

I bring it up a month before the Victory Tour. Which Snow has informed the Capitol is still happening, but this year will be different for obvious reasons.

When I bring it up, Peeta shakes his head as he takes off his prosthetic for the night. “No,” he says.

I frown, turning to face him. “No? What do you mean ‘no’?”

He doesn’t turn to look at me. “I mean no. I’m tired of doing this.”

I scoff. “Well you can’t be because I need to get pregnant in three months.”

“No. We’re not doing this. Not anymore.”

“Peeta-“

He turns his back towards me and turns off the lamp.

I throw the covers off and turn on the ceiling light.

Peeta groans. “Katniss, I just want to sleep while I still have a normal schedule!’

“And I would much rather get this over with before the Victory Tour because who knows what that’s going to look like this year and what kind of hell Snow is going to bring. I would rather deal with this now than wait even longer to what’s going to be a stressful next couple of months.” I cross my arms and glare at him from the foot of the bed.

“I already told you, Katniss. No. I’m tired of doing this!”

“Don’t you think I am too?!” I exclaim, throwing my arms in the air. “But we _have_ to.”

Peeta sits up. “No! I’m not going to let you have to go through _another_ miscarriage! I’m not going to let that happen anymore!”

“And what’s going to happen to you when I’m not pregnant in three months?!”

Judging by the way his jaw locked, he knew exactly what would happen. “Fine,” he grinds out.

I let myself relax some. “Good. Now are you going to put your prosthetic back on or…?”

But he shakes his head. “No. I mean, fine, let it happen.”

My mouth dries at his words.

“It’s much better than having you go through another miscarriage.”

“Peeta, you can’t-“

“Do you want another baby, Katniss? And answer me honestly, because if you do, then we’ll do it. I’ll do this for however long it takes for you to carry a baby to term. But if you don’t even want another kid, I’m not going to do it. I won’t put you through that again.”

I try to keep my voice steady, but it trembles. With anger, frustration, fear, despair. “And I can’t let them put you through a _third_ re-education or…” I can’t even bring myself to mention what else might happen.

Another way for Snow to bring about a child of Peeta’s that does not involve me.

He still shakes his head. “I won’t do it.”

My fists ball up at my side. “Peeta, if you don’t this, then…I’ll get Finnick to do it!”

The words are slowly processing behind his blue eyes. And I see the moment when what I’ve said registers in his mind.

Because he starts laughing.

I grab a pillow from the foot of the bed and throw it at him. “I’m being serious!”

He laughs even more. “Okay, Katniss. If you’re really serious about that, then go ahead! Be my guest!”

I grab a couple more pillows and throw them at him. Then I snatch up my pillow and storm out of the room.

“Katniss, come on!” Peeta calls out. He struggles to slip his prosthetic on and it gives me plenty of time to slam and lock the door to the guest bedroom.

For a moment, I think to be grateful that Lucy Erryn doesn’t sleep with her processors on.

As I’m settling into the bed that’s hardly used, I hear Peeta trying the doorknob, then knocking. “Katniss, can we talk about this?”

“We already did and you made yourself very clear! Good night!”

Peeta continues knocking and pleading with me to open the door and for us to talk, but I ignore him, burying my head under the pillows and covers.

It’s immature and I _know_ we need to talk this through like adults, but I’m frustrated and no, I don’t want to have to do this. But if we don’t then they’ll take him away and I can’t bear to live in this cage without him.

The month he was gone proved exactly that.

Half an hour passes before I finally hear his heavy footsteps back to the room. The door slams shut and I curl up into an even tighter ball. Just like he’s made up his mind, so have I.

I _will_ be pregnant by the deadline.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am really happy with the way this chapter turned out and I really do hope you readers enjoy it as well! I mean, it's been a long time coming this chapter.
> 
> Also, heads up if you didn't notice, rating went up a little for reasons...
> 
> Let me know what you think! 💕💕💕

I don’t sleep at all that night. My feelings of anger swell. Angry with Peeta for not caring what happens to him. Angry with Snow for putting us in this position. Angry with the rebels for bombing the arena all those years ago and leaving us here.

And then the anger transforms into a grief I haven’t felt since we were first given the news of Twelve’s destruction. Because one way or another, I am going to lose him.

After what seems like forever, the sky begins changing to a dark purple and I hear Peeta’s footsteps again as he leaves for work. I come out once I hear the front door close and go straight to the bed, undoing the covers and lying down in the space he occupied just moments before. It’s still warm and his smell has lingered.

I manage to sleep for a few hours before I hear Lucy Erryn get up and turn on the TV to watch her daddy on _Wake Up Smiling!_

The entire day I’m distracted. Delia has to remind me of the time so I’m not late in dropping off or picking up Lucy Erryn. I sit at the sewing machine and stare at the needle and fabric, but don’t make any progress on the outfit.

When Peeta comes back, I can see that he’s as exhausted as I am. But we don’t talk about it. We’re cordial in front of each other. When Peeta’s distracted with Lucy Erryn, Delia asks if everything’s okay.

I nod my head and change the subject, prepping a list of groceries for her to buy tomorrow.

At night, I don’t go to the guest bedroom. Peeta slides into the bed and looks at me while I focus even harder on my book and read the same sentence over and over again in an attempt to process the words.

“Are we going to talk about it?”

I turn the page, despite not remembering what I just read. “Nope.”

Peeta lets out a frustrated huff, but he doesn’t say anything else. He turns off the lamp on his side and goes to sleep. I set my book down and turn off the remaining light. We fall asleep at opposite ends, but in the morning when I feel him get up, we’ve both drifted to the middle and wrapped in each other’s arms.

Peeta was right to be concerned when he was still on the District tour and we couldn't hold a conversation for an hour. But if we talk about it, we're only going to fight again because he isn't going to change his mind and neither am I.

It continues like this all the way up to the Victory Tour.

And this year, Snow had decided to extend the week-long celebration into twelve days, bringing to the Capitol all the most popular Victors. Each day is dedicated to the Victors of a specific District. The twelfth day is the closing celebration, in honor of Panem and how far we have come as a society.

Peeta’s schedule is just as packed as it would be during the Hunger Games. Interviews and speeches and attending all the parties.

I only have to go to the first and last party.

The tension between us is still there that first night of the celebration.

“Can we please talk about this before we go?” Peeta asks as he sits on the edge of the bed while I finish putting on my jewelry.

“Are you going to change your mind?” I ask him as I make sure I’m putting on a matching pair of earrings.

“No-“

“Then there's no point in talking about it because I’m not changing my mind either.”

"So then what? Are we going to keep this up until one of us finally caves in to the other?"

I turn to face him, feeling smug as his eyes slowly drag down my body and he flushes a little. "I am going to get pregnant, Peeta."

His eyes finally snap up to mine. "You don't want to."

"I don't need you to remind me what I don't want. It doesn't matter, Peeta. It has to happen."

He lets out an annoyed huff. He gives up on the conversation and leaves the room.

At the party, I’m sure to try my hardest this year to seem like the perfect wife. No one can know we’re angry with each other. What will that do for the image of the star-crossed lovers?

Peeta’s doing the same, making sure to be extra affectionate. I return the favor, kissing him at every opportunity.

I can see it annoys him with every kiss.

So I’m sure to kiss him even more.

Johanna is the only one who actually sees right through us. She laughs. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Not at all,” I say, placing my hand on Peeta’s chest.

“We’re the happiest we’ve ever been,” Peeta adds, extending his arm in an exaggerated movement.

Johanna laughs even more. “Well if this you two in a weird argument, then I would not want to see how you behave when you’re actually happy one day.”

“Who says we aren’t happy?” I ask, only for the sake of where we are.

Johanna smirks. “Because no one that’s ever been through the Games ever is. I bet you don’t even remember what it is to be happy. And you’ll probably never experience it here in the Capitol.”

She walks away before either of us can come up with a response.

Her words only make the rest of the party a hundred times worse.

That night just before we both fall asleep, Peeta turns to me and grabs my hand. Not in some kind of mock affection. But in the gentle way he always does, rubbing his thumb over my wedding ring.

I've missed his touch.

“We have to talk about it, Katniss. But I’m not changing my mind. There has to be another way.”

I pull my hand from his. “Goodnight, Peeta.”

Fine. He won’t change his mind and I’m not changing my mind. I already told him of a different way, now I just have to actually go through with it.

Living in the Capitol for as long as I have, I’ve learned how to do certain things anonymously. Or at least ask the right questions anonymously. And I set up the appointment for the sixth day, knowing Peeta won’t be coming back until after two in the morning. Giving me plenty of time to do what needs to be done.

I tell myself that it’ll be just like Peeta. I only need to close my eyes and imagine that it’s him. But I still grab a bottle of wine after Lucy Erryn goes to sleep. I never got used to the taste of any kind of alcohol, barely able to handle spritzers, but I finish the bottle by the time I hear the knock on the front door.

I take a deep breath and stand up, pausing for a moment for the room to stop spinning. On unsteady feet, I open the door.

Finnick is leaning against the doorframe, grinning as he holds a bouquet of roses. When he sees me, he straightens, the smile dropping from his face. “Katniss?”

I grab the roses from him and wave him inside, dropping the roses into the trash can as I sit back on the couch.

Like all the other nights dedicated to the districts, there’s a live feed of the party. And the camera follows Caesar and Peeta as they talk with other guests and interview the Victors of District Six.

Peeta looks exhausted. I wonder if I’m the only one that can tell.

“No, but you’re one of the few people that knows what to look for anyways. They do a good job at covering that up with makeup.”

I look at him, not realizing I had spoken out loud.

Finnick eyes the empty wine bottle, then looks at me. “So. Do you want to tell me what I’m doing here?”

“I need to get pregnant.” I notice my words are slurred. This is why I don’t ever drink. I don’t like feeling out of control like this. “Peeta doesn’t want to try anymore.”

Finnick shakes his head a little “I think I know where this is going…” he mumbles.

I turn to face him, my hand shooting out to grab the back of the couch to steady myself. “They’re going to hurt him, Finnick. But he doesn’t care. He says he can’t do it anymore and what if this time there isn’t a miscarriage? But we’ll never know because he doesn’t want to and I…I can’t lose him, Finnick. I _can’t_. He’s the only thing I have left, and I love Lucy Erryn, but I _can’t_ do any of this without him.”

“Katniss, I-“

“Please, Finnick,” I beg. “You have to help me. I _won’t_ let them take him away from me. I don’t care what he says. I have to get pregnant.”

Finnick pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket and hands it to me. I didn’t even realize I was crying.

I wipe my face dry, only for it to still get wet with more tears. “So will you help me?”

He looks at me and it’s a rare moment where I actually think I’m seeing the real Finnick. Hollow and sad and broken after all his years of mistreatment at the hands of the Capitol. “No,” he finally answers me. “Not like this. You are going to regret this for the rest of your life if you do. Trust me.”

More tears stream down my face. “But-“

He shakes his head adamantly. “You will never forgive yourself if you do this. Then Peeta will blame himself for it too and I don’t want to see you two at the next Hunger Games as hollow versions of yourselves.

I know he’s right. But that still doesn’t stop me from curling up on the couch and crying even more as I already imagine Peeta being taken from me in three months time.

Finnick rubs a hand up and down my arm in an attempt to comfort me. It doesn’t work. It’s not Peeta’s hand.

“So what do I do?” I whisper. “How do I keep him safe?”

“Have you tried actually talking to him?”

I curl up even more, remembering all the unsuccessful attempts Peeta made at trying to talk about it.

When I don’t answer, Finnick speaks up again. “Then I think you know where you need to start.”

I wipe my face again and sit up to hand the handkerchief back. But the movement makes the room spin again and I feel my stomach protesting. I know what’s about to happen.

Finnick notices too and he grabs a decorative bowl, dumps out the small baubles, and hands it to me just in time.

He holds my hair back as my stomach heaves everything up and I can’t believe what I tried to do. And even if it did happen, how could I ever pretend it was Peeta? Finnick’s touch is nothing like his.

Once my stomach has decided it’s done, I push the bowl away and lie back down with a groan. I hear Finnick chuckle a little and I want to toss a pillow at him, but that means moving and I don’t think my head could handle that right now. I stay curled up on the couch while Finnick grabs the bowl. I point him in the direction of the guest bathroom and he flushes everything down. He comes back with a glass of water and pulls out a breath mint from his pocket.

“I guess you can leave,” I grumble after chewing the mint.

Finnick smirks. “And miss seeing Katniss Mellark drunk? I don’t think so. And I might not be him, but I don’t think you want to be alone right now, do you?”

I hate that he’s right.

“Besides, you did pay for the whole night. The least I can do is let you enjoy my company.”

This time, I stretch my foot out just enough to kick him a little.

Finnick laughs, but he settles even more into the couch.

I’m reminded again of how much I hate alcohol when the next time I open my eyes it’s because of the sound of the front door and a light turning on. My head throbs as I sit up and peek over the couch.

Peeta’s there, handsome and tired as he looks from me to a grinning Finnick.

“Hey Peeta,” Finnick greets as if this is a normal occurrence.

He rubs his eyes then focuses on Finnick again. “Um…hi Finnick.”

“Long night?”

Peeta nods, his eyes going back and forth between me and Finnick. “You?”

Finnick shrugs. “Could’ve been worse.” Then he stretches and stands up. “Well, I should get going. You two have a good rest of your night.” And with that, he walks out of the penthouse.

I sit up and Peeta sits down where Finnick had just been. He doesn’t look at me, but I can see how tightly his jaw is clenched. He’s exhausted and I half expect him to go to the room to sleep. But I can tell that he’s trying to figure out what to say.

“Nothing happened,” I say before any word leaves his mouth.

He scoffs. “Damnit Katniss, I didn’t think you were being serious."

Now it’s my turn to clench my jaw. “I told you what I was going to do.”

“But I didn’t think you were being serious!” He rubs a hand down his face. “You were going to give Lucy Erryn a half-sibling with _Finnick Odair?"_

“Well I would much rather it be a full-blooded sibling, but my husband doesn’t want to.” My voice is rising. I’ve sobered up enough to have this conversation, but it doesn’t mean I want to have right _now_.

“And neither does my wife! So why are we even doing this?!” Peeta yells, standing up.

I stand up too and match his yelling. “Because we _have_ to!”

“No, we don’t! Why can’t we just take control of this one aspect of our lives?!”

“Because the cost is too damn high, Peeta!"  
  
"You don't even want another kid!"  
  
"No, I don't! But we have to have one and that child will be loved _regardless_!"  
  
Peeta stands up and runs a hand through his hair. "That's not what I'm worried about!"  
  
I stand up too. "Then what are you so worried about?!"  
  
"The miscarriages, Katniss! First, it was Branton, and then these two miscarriages! What if that's all that happens now? Miscarriage after miscarriage?"

I move closer to him and point my finger in his face. "I can handle all the miscarriages in the world, but I can’t handle them taking you away from me again! And I know we’re just going to go around in circles with you saying you can’t stand to see me go through another miscarriage, but at the end of them, I am always still here! If they take you away again, who knows if they’ll bring you back to me! I can’t lose you!”

The room falls silent. Peeta takes a deep breath and looks down. He grabs my hand and I let him, his thumb running over and over the pearl. His voice is much softer the next time he speaks. “Katniss, if we keep this up with you having miscarriage after miscarriage, you’ll be taken away from me. You were in a coma after Branton and...there will be one that’s bad enough that it’ll take _you_ away from me. I…there’s too many people that need you. Even here." He pauses for a long moment, then adds, "Nobody needs me.”

It almost feels as if he’s slapped me. How could he say that? After everything that’s happened, how could he even _think_ that? “Lucy Erryn needs you.”

“Father’s die all the time. She’s still little. Kids are resilient at her age.”

I cup his face and make him look at me. “Haven't you been listening to me? I can't lose you, Peeta. _I_ need you."

Maybe it’s the wine, but I’m pretty sure I’ve sobered up completely. Or maybe it’s the exhaustion, but I’ve never felt so alert. Or maybe it’s just the build-up of all these years of living with him and being in such close proximity to his heart.

Whatever it is, I lean forward and press my mouth to his.

He obliges, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close.

I barely pull back for air before kissing him again and again and again and making sure he understands what it all means. I _need_ him. I can’t survive without him. My dandelion in the spring.

And something inside of me wakes up. I remember feeling hints of it before, in quiet moments of peace with him. But this time, it burns through me completely and it won’t be satisfied if we stop now.

Peeta must feel the same way, because he pulls me in even closer, his mouth moving from my lips to nip at my earlobe and makes a trail down my neck.

I gasp, stretching my head back to give him better access. He's tugging at my thighs and I know what he's asking. I give a small jump and he catches me, wrapping my legs around his waist. And I've forgotten how strong this baker is as he seems to hold me effortlessly.

He carries me to the room and drops me down on the bed. I scramble up and pull at his suit jacket and his tie and the buttons and my fingers can't move fast enough.

Then his hands grab mine and he stops me. “Katniss…”

I cup his face again. I know what he needs to hear. And I know if I say those words, it won’t be a lie either. It’s never been a lie. I also know Peeta will wait an eternity and a day for me to say those words.

Words that are so dangerous in a place like this.

But I don’t know how long it will be before he’s taken from me. And I don’t want him to wait anymore for me to say it.

“I love you.”

His lips are on me again, this time with a desperation of a man who’s been a prisoner his entire life.

That’s what we are though, isn’t it? We’ll always be prisoners. But as we kiss and clothes fall away and our hands wander and explore, touching, rubbing, pushing, caressing, I feel _freedom_.

And this time it’s so different. While I hope to get pregnant, it’s not the goal this time. I honestly don’t care if it doesn’t happen at this point. Because I _love_ him.

I tell him as he touches me in a way that makes pleasure shudder through me. “I love you,” I breathe out.

His touches pause for a moment as he brings his eyes to mine. And there’s a soft smile on his lips that I quickly pull into mine. “I love you,” I tell him again.

He’s in me and I gasp, every nerve ending in my body on fire. “I love you.”

He buries his head in my neck, kissing and nipping. I turn my head to gently tug at his earlobe with my teeth. “I love you.”

Peeta lifts his head to look at me again. This time, his movements and touches don’t stop.

I cup his face in my hands. “I love you.”

And my body explodes around him in a way I’ve never felt before. It’s enough to pull him over the edge with me as well.

He doesn’t roll off right away. He hovers over me, peppering me with feather-light kisses. I cup his face again and bring his lips down to mine. I smile up at him. “I love you.”

"I love you too," he whispers.

Afterwards, he stays. Wrapped up together in sheets and limbs, he stays with me. He falls asleep first and I smile a little as I brush some of his blond curls from his face. I kiss his lips softly, not wanting to wake him. I whisper again, “I love you.”

I’ll never be able to say it enough times to make up for all those lost years.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are about to start moving really quick and appearances are going to happen soon!! I'm really excited for these next few chapters! And I really like this chapter too! I had a lot of fun writing it, especially now that we have Everlark finally admitting their love! 
> 
> Thank you everyone for your kudos/comments! Let me know what you think of this next chapter 💕💕

When I wake up, I’m alone, but I can still feel Peeta’s warmth. I move to lay down in it and breathe in deeply. Flour and spices and his Capitol brand shampoo.

I get up earlier than usual and make myself a cup of tea. There’s a note on the counter.

_I love you too_.

I bite my lip, unsuccessfully hiding a smile.

I settle on to the couch and turn on the TV to catch Peeta’s morning show as they give highlights of the party last night and what to expect for today’s festivities.

The words aren’t registering, my focus entirely on Peeta’s face. I can tell in his eyes that he’s not wearing a mask this morning. No, he’s genuinely happy.

My heart skips and my cheeks flush in embarrassment, even if I am sitting in the living room alone.

He’s happy because of me. Because I love him. And I’m happy because of him. Because he loves me.

A traitorous thought enters my mind.

How long is this going to last? Because it is going to end.

Another thought follows. One I haven’t considered in years.

What if we ran away?

A commercial comes on for a new meat-substitute product. I turn my head and look out the window. It’s snowing.

Lucy Erryn comes out of her room, rubbing her eyes and making half-hearted signs that I can’t interpret as she holds out her processors for me.

I grab them and realize I forgot to charge them for her last night.

I don’t think we would make it if we ran.

Not with Lucy Erryn.

It’s not her fault though. She’s grown up more comfortable than anyone ever would in the Districts. There’s never been a need for her to fight for her survival. And I don't want her to ever have to experience that.

I take the processors from her and go to the kitchen to grab the spare. The ones that Peeta always makes sure are charged for situations like this. I hand her the spare and put the other ones to charge.

She sits with me on the couch for a half an hour, still waking up. Her eyes go back and forth from the TV to the falling snow outside. Once she’s awake enough, I take her into the kitchen and make her breakfast.

Delia comes in while we’re finishing up our oatmeal. I tell her to grab a bowl for herself and join us. She does and after taking a few bites, she signs, _“You look good.”_

I blush and I hate it.

Delia notices and raises an eyebrow with a smirk. But she doesn’t say anything else.

The TV stays on all day. Delia and I go back and forth in keeping Lucy Erryn entertained. Especially after lunch when she asks if she can go see Ofi and play with her in the snow. I tell her no and before she can throw a fit, I tell her we can build a snowman on the balcony.

She squeals and runs to get her coat on.

There’s enough snow to build four little snowmen.

As Lucy Erryn puts on the final touch of their button noses, she says who the snowmen are. “This is Daddy. This is Mommy. This is me. And this is baby brother.”

I have to take a few deep breaths before speaking. “Lucy Erryn, you don’t have a baby brother.”

She looks at me with a frown. “Yes, I do.”

“Honey-“

“You and Daddy lost him. We just gotta find him.”

It’s been two years since we lost Branton. Is that what she’s referring to? Or is she thinking of one of the other miscarriages? She must’ve heard someone talking about it. Was it at her preschool among the teachers? A parent at the park as they pushed their own child on the swings? One of the interviews between Caesar and Peeta?

At her age, I already understood what death was. Growing up in the Seam and seeing women come in to see my mother with their children. A boy my age that wouldn’t stop coughing and a few days later half the Seam standing in a large field full of wooden crosses and ash floating in the air. My father coming home from the mines with the group of men and an older man suddenly collapsing and not getting up again.

And the Games, always watching the Tributes killing each other until there’s only one.

At four years old, I understood those children were going back to their families in a wooden box.

But the Capitol is so clean and perfect and there is no one that visibly lacks anything. This place is a bubble protecting its citizens from the harsh realities and painting anything ugly as a TV show.

How can I explain death to her in a place like this?

I don’t want to have this conversation with her without Peeta though. So I take her inside and make her some hot chocolate.

When Peeta comes back that night, I’m in bed, but not asleep.

After changing into pajamas and taking off his prosthetic, he settles into bed and pulls me into his arms. “Hi,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to my neck.

Despite my lingering thoughts on my conversation with Lucy Erryn this afternoon, I snuggle into his embrace. “Hi.”

He pulls back to press a kiss to my lips. Peeta’s barely able to keep his eyes open, but he still manages to ask, “Did you have a good day?”

I nod. “Me and Lucy Erryn made snowmen.”

He smiles and gives a soft, content sigh. “I wish I could’ve helped.”

“I’m sure it’ll snow again before spring. We can go to the park the day it does and build more snowmen that day.” Then I kiss him again and say, “Good night. I love you.”

He looks at me with a huge smile and sleepy eyes. “I love you too.” And he kisses me again.

I kiss back and it’s slow and heat coils inside of my stomach and quickly spreads as the kiss continues and his hands tug at my hips to bring me closer. I pull back after a while, breathing hard and pressing my forehead against his. “You need to go to sleep. It’s late and you have to get ready again in a few hours.”

Peeta actually whines. “You weren’t saying that last night.”

I snort and shove his chest. “That was different.”

He grins before giving an exaggerated sigh. “Okay, if you really want to go to sleep, that’s perfectly fine with me.”

But whatever’s poking my stomach lets me know there’s a part of him that is not perfectly fine with going straight to sleep.

I smile as I kiss him again. “Good night.”

Except this time, I’m the one drawing out the kiss and Peeta lets me.

Before I know it, I’m tugging off my underwear and helping Peeta with his. Then I’m on top of him and I inhale sharply as I feel him inside of me. His fingers dig into my hips as I move.

It happens much faster than last night, but I still feel the same overwhelming feeling of satisfaction and warmth and love when it’s done.

And after, I snuggle close to him again and he says, “Now I’ll go to sleep.”

I swat his chest and it rumbles with a soft laugh. He presses a kiss to the top of my head and within seconds, his breathing slows and he’s asleep. I quickly fall asleep too, not allowing myself to give further thought to my conversation with Lucy Erryn.

And every night when he comes back, I promise myself that I’m going to let him go straight to sleep, but really it’s his fault because he’s the one that starts the kissing and the touches. It makes my body burn and I know it won’t stop until I have him.

Even on the night when Lucy Erryn sleeps with us, we still manage not going straight to sleep. Because as soon as he comes in, I realize that I forgot to brush my teeth. I go into the bathroom and he follows me brushing his teeth and changing into pajamas.

He doesn’t even have to kiss me. He just runs his hand along my lower back as he walks past me in the bathroom and I practically pounce on him.

Peeta gives a small, startled cry, but he doesn’t pull back. Instead, he moves to pin me between the wall and his body.

Yes, I’m the one that started it, but I have to be the one to end it. “Lucy Erryn’s in the room,” I say, tilting my head back as he trails kisses down my neck.

“There’s no way she’ll hear us.”

“And if she wakes up and decides she needs to use the restroom?”

One of his hands leaves my body and I hear the faint click of the lock to the bathroom door.

“We don’t need to worry about that either.”

When we finally come out of the bathroom, Lucy Erryn hasn’t moved an inch. We lay down with her in between us and before Peeta slips into sleep, he grabs my hand and kisses it.

“I love you,” I whisper.

He smiles, already half asleep and whispers back, “Love you too.”

I want to hold on to this happiness and love and _joy_ for as long as I can.

But I knew there would come a point when it would get hard.

I just didn’t expect it to happen so soon.

The last night of the celebration finally comes and I dress up again to join Peeta for this final night.

No matter how good these last few days have been, it’s still hard to go this party. I don’t think I’ll ever enjoy them and I’m sure Peeta feels the same way. But we still have to go and maybe it’s a little bit easier to smile this time as my fingers intertwine with Peeta’s as he rubs his thumb over and over the pearl of my wedding ring.

As usual, people come up to us, hugging and kissing and exclaiming how glad they are to see us and how’s Lucern doing and has there been any progress towards another Mellark baby.

“Katniss, are you sure you aren’t already pregnant and hiding it from us? You’re positively glowing tonight!”

That’s a new comment from the Capitolites.

And every time someone says something along those lines, Peeta always turns to look at me with stars in his eyes that makes my stomach give a small flip. “She is especially beautiful tonight, isn’t she?”

“Guess you two did more than just talk the other night.”

Despite my good mood, I still manage to roll my eyes as Finnick approaches.

Peeta wraps a hand around my waist and shrugs. “Maybe.”

Finnick laughs, pops a blueberry tart into his mouth. “I’m happy for you two. Really.” He gives us one of his rare, genuine smiles.

Without saying anything else, the mood becomes somber. Because we’re all wondering how long this will last.

Then Finnick clears his throat. “So, any guesses as to what the big announcement tonight is going to be?”

I tilt my head. “I didn’t realize there was going to be an announcement.” I turn to Peeta, but he doesn’t look at all confused.

He just gives a small nod. “Yeah, President Snow says there’s going to be some changes coming.”

“More than even he realizes,” Finnick mumbles with a smirk.

I stiffen, knowing he’s referring to the rebels and maybe they’re finally going to make a move.

But I remind myself that I don’t care what it is the rebels are planning. Because it’s their fault we’re here.

I’m sure Peeta wants to ask Finnick more questions, but he keeps the promise he made to me of not getting involved with anything that has to do with the rebels.

“Things can change as much as they want, so long as everyone understands that we really don’t want to be involved in bringing about these changes,” says Peeta.

Finnick gives a grim smile. “But we exist in this wonderful place called Panem. Haven’t you learned by now none of us really have a choice in what we get involved in? Not as long as we’re in Panem.”

He grabs a glass and raises it to us in a small toast. “I really do hope you two stay happy for as long as possible.” He takes a sip and walks away.

Finnick’s right. And it makes me think again of running away. Away from the Capitol and the Districts and the rebels. Away from Panem.

Could that even be a possibility?

His words hang over us for the rest of the evening. I want to leave, but Peeta has to stay until after President Snow’s announcement.

So when Snow finally climbs up to that podium, I’m actually excited to see him. Because that means it’s almost time for us to go back to the penthouse.

Almost everyone cheers when they see their president. Peeta and I don’t. And neither do any of the Victors.

Snow holds up his hands to quiet the crowd and smiles. “My dear people. How happy I am to see you all gathered here this night. Things have not happened quite as we expected them during these past Hunger Games but look at us. Still celebrating. Still strong. Still rising above those who would mean to destroy us.”

There’s more cheering and clapping. I wish I had a glass of wine to stomach it all.

“I have never been prouder of this country than in this moment,” Snow continues. “I am honored to be the leader of this country for all these years. But just as our lives are always changing, so this country continues changing in order to stay great. But the rebels want other changes to happen. Changes that will cause the downfall of this country. In fact, they’ve convinced some of the Districts to make these changes. Right under our noses.

“That ends tonight. As your president, I promise to keep Panem great. I promise to stop these rebels once and for all. The Districts will produce what they are meant to. And the Hunger Games will continue, reminding everyone of how far we have come as a people.”

Cheers. Loud, horrible cheering. I want to bury my face in Peeta’s chest and open my eyes to a completely different place.

“I am introducing a new position in this government. One that hasn’t been used since the Dark Days. A Vice President. After searching for countless months, I am proud to announce that I have found the perfect man for this position.” Snow spreads out his arm and gestures for a man standing behind him in the shadows to step forward.

My heart drops and Peeta’s grip on my waist tightens as the man comes into the spotlight.

“Commander Romulus Thread, Head Peacekeeper of the former District Twelve.”

Somehow the cheers are louder.

I feel like I can’t breathe, looking at this man that I thought I’d never see again.

Snow invites Thread to say a few words. He says how honored he is to be chosen for this position, that he only plans to serve and protect this country’s best interest. During the final words of his speech, I know without a doubt he’s looking directly at me and Peeta.

“And no matter how public their positions may be or how many people they have fooled, any rebel sympathizers will be publicly executed. The rebels have lived in comfort for too long, carefully infiltrating our country. We will stand for it no longer!”

The speech is finally over and Peeta is pulling me through the crowds until we’re away from everyone and at the front driveway of the Presidential Palace.

He presses his forehead to mine and holds my face in both hands. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re going to be okay.”

But I can’t stop thinking of all the harm Thread brought during his short time at Twelve. Destroying the Hob. Whipping Gale and countless others. I bet he even had a hand in Twelve’s bombing.

“I’m going to bring the car around. I’ll be right back and then we’ll leave.”

I nod, exhaling a shaky breath.

And a few moments after he’s gone, I hear someone calling out my name.

I turn and see Finnick jogging towards me.

I don’t want to talk to him right now. Especially without Peeta. I turn away and start walking, thinking maybe I’ll just follow Peeta to the car.

“Katniss, wait!” Finnick calls out.

There’s a hint of desperation in his voice. It makes me hesitate, giving Finnick enough time to stand in front of me.

“I wanted to give you something. Consider it an early baby shower present since I’m sure you’ll be pregnant again by next month.”

And despite everything, I still blush a little and look at the small box Finnick’s placed in my hands. I start to open it, but Finnick stills my hands.

“I would open it later. Back at your penthouse.”

I try and think of what could possibly fit into this small white box he’s given me. A pacifier maybe? But why would that be so important he had to run to catch me before leaving. And why do I have to wait to open it. I still manage to mumble a thanks though.

But Finnick doesn’t leave. In fact, he looks nervous. Then he glances around before leaning in. I almost take a step back, but he grabs my arm to prevent me from doing so. “Don’t take your pre-natal vitamins this time. Don’t take anything Dr. Pythian prescribes you.”

I pull my arm out of his grasp and take a step back. “Why?”

He looks around again. “Trust me on this one.”

And with that, he hurries back to the party.

Peeta pulls up a few moments later in the car. I get in and he notices the box. “Where’d that come from?” he asks as he pulls out of the driveway and heads to the penthouse.

“Finnick gave it to me just now.”

“What is it?”

I shrug, but I don’t open it. Because now that I really think about it, there was fear in Finnick’s eyes.

So I wait until we’re in the room at the penthouse to open it.

Never in a million years would I have guessed what it was.

“How did he get that?” Peeta’s voice is low with shock.

“I don’t know,” I breathe as I pull out the gift.

Haymitch’s gold band from the Quarter Quell.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter for you lovely readers! I had fun writing this one and was actually thinking about posting it early, but I held back because I don't want to get ahead of myself! Hope you enjoy this one and thank you everyone always for your kind kudos/comments! Let me know what you think of this chapter 💕

We voice questions that neither of us know the answer to. Only Finnick would be able to answer them.

How did he get this? Why did he have it in the first place? Why is he giving it to us now?

There’s one question that stays trapped in our throats. Because it feels too impossible.

Is Haymitch alive?

“It might not be real,” I say. “He could’ve had it replicated”

Peeta twists the band slowly in his hands and shakes his head. “There’s an inscription in here. I don’t think they would’ve caught it if it's a replica.”

The words are small and faded, as if someone rubbed them over and over until they almost disappeared.

_To H. With love, E._

Peeta sets it down on the bed between us. We stare at it as if it’s a ticking bomb, not knowing what to do with it.

“No one can know about it,” I speak up again. Especially not with Thread filling this new position.

So I put in the drawer of the nightstand. Next to the gold locket Peeta gave me on our wedding day. I shut the drawer before I can see Prim's picture staring back at me.

Effie comes by the next afternoon to drop off Lucy Erryn. I’m tempted to pull out the band and give it to her. But that would put her in unnecessary danger and she would have questions that we don't have answer to.

And it might bring her fool's hope.

We still have a month before the deadline of me having to get pregnant. We don’t talk about it, but more often than not, our bodies come together. Getting pregnant isn’t the focus anymore. No, it’s something that both of us need now. As if it’s water or food or air. For every aspect of our bodies, our beings, our souls, to be connected.

And I love him and I hold on to this feeling tightly. This time, I won’t let the Capitol take it away from me.

From us.

Days before the deadline, I take a pregnancy test.

It’s positive.

Even with how well things are between us, this isn’t necessarily a happy occasion. Because there’s still a part of me that doesn’t want to have another baby.

Not while we’re stuck here in the Capitol.

That’s not even considering all the other failed pregnancies before.

How long will this one last?

Dr. Pythian confirms the pregnancy right on the deadline and gives me a bottle of pre-natal vitamins.

I don’t take them. Just like Finnick told me to do.

Peeta notices right away and takes it upon himself to actually take one out and set it on my plate during dinner.

I set it aside on the table. “I’m not taking it.”

Peeta looks at me with a frown. “Why not?”

I keep my voice quiet as I tell him what Finnick said.

“He didn’t give you any kind of reason?”

I shake my head, reaching over to grab Lucy Erryn’s cup of juice and push it away from the edge of the table.

Peeta purses his lips. A part of me thinks he’s about to say I’m being ridiculous and they’re just vitamins.

But then he nods his head and says, “Okay. But you have to promise to eat more fruits and vegetables.”

The pregnancy is announced everywhere and during the morning show, Caesar lightly pokes Peeta in the side and says, “Fourth time’s the charm!”

Everyone knows the phrase is actually ‘third time’s the charm.’ And Peeta actually starts to say this, but Caesar cuts him off with a laugh and a wave. He then goes on to talk about all the good things our new Vice President Thread has done and the great wisdom of our President Snow. It's been the only thing they've talked about since Thread's position has been announced.

I’m about to put the TV on mute, but my stomach churns and I have to run to the bathroom to throw up.

That’s not the only thing that day that make me want to throw up though.

When I get back to the penthouse from picking up Lucy Erryn from preschool, I notice she doesn’t tell Delia thank you for the snack she has prepared for her. In fact, she doesn’t even look at Delia. She’s not sulking over something because when I picked her up, she was as chatty as she normally is and now she’s playing with her dolls and acting normal.

Except every time Delia tries to grab her attention or asks if she wants to draw or play, Lucy Erryn turns her back to her and continues with whatever it is she’s doing.

“Lucy Erryn, Delia’s trying to talk to you,” I say after an hour of this.

Lucy Erryn crams a tiny plastic shoe on one of her dolls. “Avoxes can’t talk, Mommy.”

I’m about to reprimand her, but Delia shakes her head and signs, “It’s fine.”

But it’s not and I plan to have a talk with her once Delia leaves for the evening.

When Peeta comes back from work, I notice in his eyes that something's not right. Something must've happened at work. It doesn't make matters any better when he finally catches on to Lucy Erryn's attitude towards Delia. Especially when it's time for Delia to leave. Peeta tells Lucy Erryn to say goodbye to her.

She ignores Peeta. Which is a first.

“Lucy Erryn, I’m talking to you,” Peeta’s voice has gone tight, not used to being the one she ignores.

Still, she ignores him.

Again, Delia shakes her head and signs it’s fine.

But I see both hurt and resignation on her face when she leaves.

I send Lucy Erryn to wash up for dinner as Peeta joins me in the kitchen.

He asks what’s going on with Lucy Erryn.

I don’t have an answer for him, but I tell him I plan on getting one tonight.

Then I ask him if everything is okay with him.

He just lets out a heavy sigh, kisses me lightly, then says we'll talk about it later.

It doesn't do anything to ease my nerves.

After dinner while Peeta cleans the kitchen, I take Lucy Erryn and get her ready for bed. Once she’s tucked and ready to take her processors off for the day, I finally ask her why she didn’t talk to Delia today.

“Because she’s an Avox.”

“And?”

“And Ms. Pinkerson said Avoxes aren’t actually people so we shouldn't talk with them or play with them or even look at them. And if we do we’ll get in really big trouble.”

I feel my dinner coming up and I have to fight to keep it down in my stomach. “Well Ms. Pinkerson is wrong. Delia and everyone else like her are people. They deserve our respect and I don’t ever want you treating Delia or any other Avox like you did today.”

Her lower lip begins trembling at my stern voice. “But Ms. Pinkerson said-“

“Is Ms. Pinkerson more important than me or Daddy?”

Lucy Erryn looks down at her sweater blanket and slowly shakes her head no.

I gently lift her chin to look at me, softening my voice as I speak again. “Sometimes your teachers are going to tell you things that aren’t true. But me and your daddy are always going to make sure you know what’s the truth and what’s right and we’ll make sure you never get in big trouble because of something that we told you to do. Okay?”

She nods, her big blue eyes full of tears. “Is Delia mad at me?”

“No, but you did hurt her feelings.”

And that makes her face crumble and the tears finally begin falling.

I pull her into my lap for a hug. “Why don’t you make a really pretty drawing for her tomorrow and tell her your sorry.

Lucy Erryn nods, wiping her eyes and nose on my shirt. “Do you think she’ll still be my second best friend?”

I smile and kiss her forehead. “I’m sure she’ll love being your second best friend still.”

Once Peeta and I are in bed for the night, I explain what happened.

He lets out a heavy sigh. “Thread’s introducing a new curriculum. One that really enforces the lesser value of those that aren’t Capitol-born. This is only going to be the beginning.”

I wonder what her reaction will be when she finally understands what it means that her parents are the only survivors of District Twelve.

Then he grabs my hand tightly, pulling all my attention to him. "Katniss, we have to keep a better eye on her."

"What happened?" I ask, swallowing hard as I brace myself for whatever he found out at work.

"There's been kidnappings all over the city."

"What?" I ask as my heart drops.

Peeta exhales a shaky breath. "They're not reporting it because they want to avoid panicking the masses. But it's happening. So just...we need to take more precautions with her when we go out."

We both fall into a restless sleep. Because it feels like we're on the edge of a storm we can't escape.

As I enter the third month of pregnancy, I’m more careful with everything I do. Every tiny ache or pressure, I wonder if this is it. The miscarriage.

But nothing ever happens and during my appointments with Dr. Pythian, he always says everything is looking good and the baby is growing perfectly.

He also asks if I’m taking my vitamins and reiterating how important it is that I’m taking them for the baby’s well-being.

I just nod and assure him I am.

But I threw those down the sink into the garbage disposal.

The baby seems to be doing fine without the vitamins.

Peeta’s birthday lands on a Saturday this year. And even though we don’t ever do anything for his or my birthday, this year I decide to change that. We’ll have Effie and Portia over for lunch and Lucy Erryn and I will bake him a cake. We’ll watch a movie together and after Effie and Portia leave and Lucy Erryn goes to bed, I’ll pull out that lingerie and see what he thinks of it.

And it’ll be a surprise.

The day before though, he finds out he has to go in for a new training at work tomorrow.

I deflate a little. “How long is it going to take?”

He shrugs. “They didn’t say, but hopefully I’ll be back before dinner.”

Well, at least Lucy Erryn and I will still be able to have a cake ready for him when he gets back.

“What’s the new training for?”

“I don’t know." Then he hesitates before continuing. "It’s something that Thread’s created.”

I stiffen and bile rises in my throat.

Peeta reaches over and grabs my hand. “It’ll be fine. I’ll be back for dinner. Promise.”

But he can’t hide the worry in his eyes from me. We're both thinking of when he went in to the office for something other than work.

And he didn't come back for a whole week.

I’m awake when he leaves the next morning. I didn’t sleep at all actually, wondering the entire night what this training is for and if he really will come back.

Before he leaves, he promises me again that he will be back for dinner.

I kiss him, lingering longer than what he has time for. “I’ll wait for you,” I say, exactly like I told him the last time.

Effie and Portia still come over for lunch and they ask about the pregnancy and Peeta’s work and isn’t the new Vice President doing such a wonderful job?

“And it’s a good thing President Snow brought him in,” Portia says. “It'll make his passing that much smoother."

“What are you talking about?” I ask with a frown.

“Well, President Snow does need some to come after him when it’s time. He isn’t getting any younger, Katniss."

That’s when I really understand what she's talking about.

Snow is dying.

Of course he is.

And Thread will the new president.

While I hate Snow, he has an obsession with appearances and Peeta and I are a big part of that.

But Thread doesn’t care about any of that.

He’ll get rid of us at the first opportunity.

“Darling, are you all right? You’re looking quite pale." Effie reaches over to grab my hand. “Do you need to go to the hospital?” she asks, her voice filled with worry.

I shake my head and smile. “No, I’m fine. I just…I don’t think the food is settling well.”

Both women exhale in relief and they move on to talk about a new monument that’s going to be unveiled next month. The highlight of it is that it’s made completely out of lumber from District Seven.

Once they leave, I get started on baking the cake with Lucy Erryn. She critiques my every move and tells me that’s not how Daddy does it.

“Well, it’s still going to be a really great cake because you and me are the ones making it for him.”

But somehow, the top of the cake caves in as we’re putting on the frosting and I take a small sample from one of the crumbs and the bread is so dry and when I turn my back to check the recipe to figure out what I skipped, Lucy Erryn adds a whole other can of frosting to try and fix the small cave in.

It’s the worst cake I’ve ever seen and tasted, but knowing Peeta, he’ll be so happy and he’ll grin and bear it while eating it.

If he does come back today.

I shove that thought out of my mind and send Lucy Erryn to change since she’s full of flour and frosting.

When she comes out, she sits at the table to draw Peeta something and I work on cleaning up our mess.

I’m wiping down the last counter when the front door opens and Peeta comes in.

I practically sag with relief at seeing him back.

Lucy Erryn jumps up from the dining table, carrying the drawing she’s been working on and waves it in front of Peeta. “Happy birthday, Daddy!”

He doesn’t smile at her or bends down to pick her up. He hardly even glances at the drawing before mumbling, “That’s nice,” and walking past her to the room.

“Peeta?” I call after him with a frown. But he doesn’t turn around and I hear the door to the room close.

Ice creeps into my body and I look at Lucy Erryn. She’s staring down the hallway with a frown as well. She looks down at her drawing before dragging her feet into the kitchen and standing next to me. “Does Daddy not like my drawing?”

I set down the damp rag and take her drawing. “Of course, he does. And I like it too. I think it’s so great, it should go on the fridge for at least two weeks.” I secure it on the fridge door with magnet and as I do, I hear the door to the room open again and Peeta’s footfalls down the hallway.

I look up and see complete confusion on his face. “Hey…” He tilts his head a little, looking from me and Lucy Erryn, to the front door, then back to us. His eyes then wander to the fridge and Lucy Erryn’s drawing and his face lights up a bit. “Wow, did you and Mommy go to the art museum today and buy this drawing? I bet it cost a bajillion credits!”

Lucy Erryn ducks her head a little as she clasps her hands behind her back. “I did it,” she says softly.

“Oh, this is amazing, Lucy Erryn!”

“You just said it’s nice. Not amazing.” She kicks at an invisible rock on the floor.

A flash of confusion and panic crosses Peeta’s face, but then he shakes his head. “Oh, well, that’s only because I didn’t look at it right. This really is amazing, honey.”

His explanation seems to satisfy her and she beams up at him. “It’s for your birthday! And me and Mommy made a cake too!”

And I move aside so he can see our creation.

He brings a hand up to cover his mouth and I know he’s stifling a laugh. “That looks…well, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a cake like that.”

Lucy Erryn is practically glowing.

I give her gentle nudge forward. “Go wash up, okay? And we’ll have dessert before dinner tonight.”

Lucy Erryn claps her hands in delight and skips off to the bathroom.

Once she’s gone, Peeta’s face immediately twists into concern.

“What is it?” I ask quietly, pulling down three plates for the cake.

Peeta draws a hand down his face. “I can’t remember what I did today.”

I try to keep my heartbeat steady. “What?”

“I remember getting to the office and riding up the elevator, but then…I don’t know, it’s all blank. I’m not even sure how I came back because next thing I know, I’m coming out of the room."

My eyes run over his body for any injuries and I even reach out and gently press different places on his chest and stomach. He doesn’t wince at all.

But then he grabs my hands. “I’m fine, Katniss. I just…I don’t know. But what matters is that I’m here. I came back. Everything’s okay.”

Except everything is not okay. How can it be possible that he’s just completely forgotten an entire day of his life?

Something is very wrong, and I have no idea how to figure out what it is.

He grabs a fork and takes a bite of the cake before I’ve even served it. He immediately starts coughing and I see him struggle to swallow it down.

“Now that you’ve tasted it, you know exactly how much you’re going to need to act like you’re enjoying it so you don’t hurt Lucy Erryn’s feelings again.”

Even though I’m worried about what happened during his work training today and I know he is too, I still pull out that unused gift from Octavia.

I told myself I would be confident and allow him to see every bit of it as soon as I stepped out of the bathroom in it.

But when I do come out, I barely glance up at him and my arms move to try and cover myself.

I know he’s seen me when he inhales sharply. “…Katniss…”

“Do you like it?” I ask, my head still titled down, but my eyes looking right at his.

He reaches down for his prosthetic, not taking his eyes off of me. “Yeah…”

I move towards him and still his hands. “Don’t worry. You won’t need that tonight.”

A few weeks later, on my birthday, he returns the favor.

And he does something new, settling his head between my legs and kissing me in places I never even imagined.

I have to press my face into a pillow to muffle the sounds that I can’t hold back.

When I feel completely satisfied, Peeta presses a small kiss to my stomach.

I officially have a baby bump.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've said it multiple times before with this fic, but seriously, I am just so excited for you lovelies to read this chapter. I mean...I just had such a fun time writing this one and things are coming out and connecting and there's more still to be connected, but yeah, things are still coming out and at the same time, it's coming close for everything to start tying up. Ahhh, I just want to know what you think of this chapter, so let me know!
> 
> Thank you always for the kudos and comments! 💕💕💕

A week later, we’re back in Dr. Pythian’s office for another checkup.

“And you’re positive you’ve been taking the vitamins?” he asks as he presses the wand against the bump.

“Every day,” I lie.

On the screen connected to the wand, we see what Dr. Pythian's looking for.

Our baby.

Perfect head. Perfect hands. Perfect feet. Perfect baby.

Peeta kisses me. “It’s perfect.”

I smile at him. And even if I didn’t want to actually get pregnant, I am now. And I’m in my second trimester and the baby is growing and is healthy and is _perfect_.

We hold hands as we walk out of the hospital and to the car. Then Peeta turns to me after turning on the engine. “Did you have any plans after this?”

I shake my head. There’s some designs I need to work on, but I still have a month to finish them and Lucy Erryn is spending the day with Auntie Effie. There's no rush to get back to the penthouse.

“I want to show you something.” He pulls out of the hospital parking lot and drives in the opposite direction of the penthouse.

He drives down familiar streets and buildings and keeps driving, even as things become increasingly unfamiliar. He drives through the Avox community and continues driving, as if we’re leaving the city.

He doesn’t stop until the water dam surrounding the city comes into view. There’s no traffic out here and he pulls over onto the side of the road.

I look at him, waiting for him to say something. But he stares at the dam, his jaw clenched.

“Is this a new romantic picnic spot or something?” I ask, trying to tease, but I can feel the tension coming off him.

Peeta takes a deep breath. “We have to leave,” he says quietly.

I frown. “Okay? So why did we come all the way out here?”

He shakes his head a little. “No, we have to leave, Katniss,” he repeats.

A pit starts forming in my stomach and even though I’m past the morning sickness, I know I probably would’ve thrown up if I had anything in my stomach. “What are you saying?" I ask, even if I know exactly what he's talking about.

“I found an opening.” He speaks so softly I have to lean forward to hear him. “We can finally leave the Capitol.”

“What?” I breathe out.

“We have to get out of here. I can’t stand another moment in this place and I know you can’t either. We have to do this before they completely turn Lucy Erryn into one of them and before they can even start on the baby.”

“Where would we go?” It’s the only coherent question I can think of. Because after all this time, I’ve given up hope of ever leaving this place. It’s impossible.

Even if recently I have thought more and more about running away.

“We could go north, to the wilds. Or south. I heard there’s another country past District Ten and if we got a boat, we could maybe make it to the land across the ocean.

"Those places are just rumors," I say, even as I'm already imagining a life there.

"Maybe we could even find District Thirteen.”

A scoff escapes my lips. “I don’t want to go to Thirteen.”

“Then we don’t have to. We can decide for ourselves where we’ll go, where we’ll live. We’ll be in control of our lives. We'll be _free,_ Katniss.”

I look out the window, to the forest and mountains beyond the dam. “And how are we supposed to do that with me pregnant and Lucy Erryn?”

He looks away. “Lucy Erryn can adapt. And we’ll have enough time to find a safe place before you get to nine months.”

“Wait, when are you thinking of leaving?”

“Right after the Opening Ceremony party. They’re increasing security this year. More than half the Peacekeepers that are stationed at the dam are going to be spread out to the Districts. And then those that are still here are going to be out in the city, specifically the Tribute Center. The dam is going to be practically deserted.”

“Peeta, this is too dangerous-“

“I remember a long time ago that this is exactly the same thing you wanted to do. Run away.” He turns to look at me, a determined spark building in his eyes, ready to catch fire at my word.

“It was different then…”

“How? We were stuck under the Capitol’s rule and we’re still stuck there.”

I throw my hands up. “We have Lucy Erryn!”

“She’ll _adapt_! She’s still young enough to adapt well.”

“And what if they catch us?”

He shakes his head. “They won’t. Not if we plan it right.”

But there’s so many things that can go wrong, no matter how much we plan it.

“Katniss, we can do this. We can make it out of here.”

There’s so much hope and determination in his eyes.

I almost believe him.

“There might not be another chance for us to do this. We have enough time to plan and get everything ready. We _have_ to try.”

I know he’s right. Things are only going to get worse. Especially once Snow dies.

So many things can go wrong though and what happens when we’re caught? Because in my mind, that’s going to happen. No matter how well we plan this. We will get caught.

Peeta reaches for my hands. “If you don’t want to do this, then we won’t. This is _your_ decision, Katniss.”

I look out at the dam. Beyond that, we could have freedom. If everything went according to plan, we could finally be free. “I have to think about it,” I say softly.

Peeta nods. He presses a kiss to my hand, then starts the car up and drives back to the penthouse.

He’ll start planning for this, as if I’ve already agreed. But the moment I tell him no, he’ll stop.

The longer I think about it, the harder it’s going to be for me to come to a decision. But I don’t know what to tell him. How do I explain to him I’m not that same girl from years ago that suggested the same thing back at Twelve? And he's not the same boy that agreed as soon as I asked him.

We're parents now. That changes everything.

Peeta doesn’t bring up the plan again, giving me time and space to come to my own decision. But the hope and determination is still there. Sometimes, it even looks like he can see a brighter future.

I wish I could see it too.

He didn’t give me a deadline. Assuming of course I would tell him at least the night before the Opening Ceremony this year.

It's not long before I do come to a decision though. And I have that training of his at work to thank for that.

It ends up being something he has to do monthly. The next training is two weeks after he tells me about the plan. And when he comes back, it’s the same as last time.

He walks in, doesn’t acknowledge either me or Lucy Erryn and goes straight to the room. A few minutes later, he comes out, waking up from whatever daze he’s been in since going into work that morning.

He doesn’t remember anything.

My concern only grows the next day when we’re walking to the park with Lucy Erryn. She walks a few steps ahead of us, skipping and pausing to look at the perfectly manicured gardens or stare up into the sky and point out a cloud that looks like an elephant from a picture book at school.

Then an older woman with a small dog on a leash, turns a corner and starts walking towards us, heading in the opposite direction.

The dog gives a small yap at Lucy Erryn and she laughs and waves to the dog and then the woman.

The woman smiles at her, then smiles at us too and continues on her way.

But as she gets closer, Peeta’s grip on my hand tightens and I feel him swerving away from her, pulling me with him. I can hear his breathing pick up and I look at him. His face has gone pale and he’s staring at the small dog with fear.

The woman doesn’t notice, passing right by us. And once she’s gone, Peeta gasps, letting go of my hand to steady himself against a building.

“Lucy Erryn, wait!” I call out, looking at her to make sure she’s stopped, motioning for her to come back. Then I turn my attention to Peeta. “What is it? What’s going on?” I ask, cupping his face.

But at the touch, he pushes my hands away and his breathing only gets more erratic as his muscles tense in a way that doesn't at all seem natural.

I swallow hard, trying to figure out what I can do to help him. Before I can do anything though, Peeta’s body seems to sag and his breathing eases.

“Peeta?”

He opens his eyes. His pupils are almost completely dilated, before shrinking back almost immediately.

Something is very wrong.

“Lucy Erryn, why we don’t go back actually. We’ll make some cookies and watch a movie.” I finally look away from Peeta to Lucy Erryn.

She’s frowning at the both of us. “What's wrong, Daddy?”

“Nothing, I'm fine,” Peeta says, pushing himself away from the building and straightening some.

But I catch the slight tremor in his hands.

No, he’s not. "We’re still going back,” I say, throwing him a look. “We can go to the park another day.”

It looks like Lucy Erryn wants to argue, but she continues staring at Peeta. And maybe she sees that Peeta isn’t okay either, because she nods. “I want to make double chocolate chip cookies!” she says, already skipping ahead of us in the direction of the penthouse.

“Peeta-“

“I said I’m okay,” he snaps, not looking at me. Then he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “We better get going before she gets too far ahead.”

He doesn’t hold my hand on the way back and I don’t reach out for him.

I don’t press him with any of the questions running around in my head. I even keep my distance from him back at the penthouse. But when we finally sit down to watch a movie with a plate of freshly baked cookies sitting on the coffee table, Peeta sits next to me. And as the movie starts, he grabs my hand, his thumb running over and over my wedding ring.

At night, after we’ve settled in bed, Peeta starts speaking quietly.

“I know it’s crazy, but that dog…I don’t know, it reminded me of the Games and when we were on the Cornucopia.”

But the dog was so small and he’s passed bigger dogs on our walks to the park. I don’t mention this though. “It’s okay,” I tell him, tracing small circles on his chest.

“That wasn’t all.” He takes a deep breath. “I was remembering it…differently. You were…you were angry with me and…you were trying to push me off.” He shakes his head. “And I know that's not what happened, but every time I try and remember it, I...it's wrong. It's all coming out _wrong_ and...it feels real."

I sit up and cup his face in my hands. "It's _not_ real. We saved each other that night and then waited until sunrise together."

It doesn't look like he believes me.

I pull his face close enough to kiss him. "I love you."

He lets out a heavy breath. "I love you too."

At least he believes that.

I make a decision right then.

“Let’s do it.”

Peeta frowns. “Do what?”

“Run. We can go the northern wilds. Or maybe even find that country past Ten.”

I don’t mention District Thirteen. Because after everything that’s happened, I don’t want to be part of some Rebel plot. It won’t be any different for us if we do go to Thirteen. I’m sure we’ll still be treated like pawns.

"You don't want to try for the land past the ocean?" he asks with a grin.

"No. Especially since you don't know how to swim and neither of us know how to steer a boat."

His smile only grows, then falters for just a moment. “Are you sure?” he asks, but already I see the hope exploding in his eyes.

I nod. “Yes. I’m sure.”

He cups my face with one hand and kisses me. “We’re going to be free,” he whispers, pressing his forehead against mine.

And as much as I hate it, excitement and hope flares inside of me.

_Free_.

I wrap my arms around Peeta’s neck and pull him in for another kiss. And another. And another.

There’s a new energy in us. As if we’ve been revived from some hazy dream.

For the first time since moving to the Capitol, we have something to look forward to. Something that will change everything for the better.

Tonight is not the night to think of everything that can go wrong. We can think about that tomorrow.

Tonight, we only think of the possibilities.

But tomorrow comes and with it, all the worries.

What will we do if we get caught?

Where exactly will we go?

What are we going to need to take?

How are we going to charge Lucy Erryn’s processors?

What if they really did put something else in her when they did that surgery for her hearing?

What if they think Effie and Portia are involved? And what about Delia? They’ll kill her.

“We have to bring Delia too,” I tell him the next night.

Peeta smiles at me. “I was thinking the same thing.”

When I tell her about our plan the next day, her face falls and she looks terrified. But then I ask her if she’ll come with us.

She throws her arms around me and nods. And then I feel her shoulders shaking with quiet sobs.

I don’t know what else to do, but hug her back.

One of the things that will determine whether our escape is successful is how Lucy Erryn reacts to it all. We have to start training her.

We play hide and seek and I tell her she loses if she giggles or makes any kind of sound. I set up a small tower of blocks and have her throw a ball and knock them all down, increasing the distance every time she knocks them all down. I take her to the park and time her as she runs around chasing Delia, encouraging her to go faster and faster. And with the parks almost empty because of the kidnapping rumors, there's no one around to tell Lucy Erryn she can't play with an Avox.

But there are some things that I don’t think any amount of training will change. Like her heavy footsteps. She’s just like Peeta in that regard.

Already, I start worrying about how hunting will go with Peeta and Lucy Erryn chasing away any good prey.

And the baby continues growing. I have not had a miscarriage.

How are we going to do it with a newborn out in the wilderness, on the run from the Capitol?

Every time the worry threatens to consume me, Peeta kisses me and tells me we’ll figure it out. That we will make it.

Even with all this new hope in the air, we still have to keep up appearances. Peeta continues going into work and I have my designs to work on. And there’s a deadline coming up, meaning I have to work on a Saturday. But thankfully, Peeta is here so he can watch Lucy Erryn while I work.

And I hear them in the kitchen, making bread and talking and laughing.

I smile at the sound, but I have to stay focused and end up tuning them out.

When the smell of the garlic bread reaches me though, I stop my work and come out. “Is it ready?” I ask.

Peeta grins as he pulls the bread out of the oven. “Almost. Let it cool down first, then you can have some.”

“Where’s Lucy Erryn?”

“She’s playing in her room.”

“It’s awfully quiet for her to be playing in her room.”

And Peeta groans as we both come to the same realization.

She’s gotten into something and is trying to hide it.

“Lucy Erryn?” I call out, already moving to her room. And she’s sitting on the floor, a frown on her face as she tries piecing something together.

When she sees me in the doorway, her eyes widen, and she hides whatever it is behind her back.

“What do you have?” I ask, walking towards her.

She shakes her head. “Nothing.”

“Lucy Erryn.” My voice drops down to a warning.

She raises her shoulders to her ears and shows me what she has.

It’s Haymitch’s gold band.

Except it’s in two pieces.

“I’m sorry!” she wails. “I didn’t mean to break it! It was an accident!”

Before I can get on to her about going through things that don’t belong to her, I notice that the band isn’t broken.

It’s actually two pieces that can come apart.

And there’s something inside the thicker piece.

I manage to pull it out and unfold it.

It’s a picture of a smiling baby in a gray jumpsuit. He looks almost two years old.

For a second, I actually think the baby is Haymitch and Effie’s. Because those gray Seam eyes are recognizable anywhere.

But the picture is too recent and I turn it around and see something written.

_Branton Mellark._

My heart drops and I feel lightheaded. “Peeta…” I can’t get my voice to become any louder and I feel my knees buckling, barely able to land on Lucy Erryn’s bed. “Peeta,”

And I can’t take my eyes off of this baby with eyes exactly like mine and smile that reminds me of Peeta and Lucy Erryn.

Lucy Erryn carefully approaches me. “Mommy? Are you really mad?”

I can’t answer her. I can’t speak. My chest is tight and it’s too hot now and it’s so hard to breathe and _why does it have his name?_

“Daddy! Something’s wrong with Mommy!”

I don’t register Peeta running into the room, kneeling in front of me as he tries to figure out what’s wrong.

Even though I don’t want to look away, I grab his hand and give him the picture.

Peeta doesn’t have to turn it around to read the name for the realization to hit him.

I let out a trembling breath. “Peeta…”

But then he’s up and rushing out of the room.

It takes me by surprise and Lucy Erryn looks frightened by all the commotion. So I pick her up and reassure her that everything is fine and even though my legs are still trembling, I leave her room to find Peeta in the living room.

He’s grabbing the journals we made every year for the Tributes, journals that we never touch after the Games are over. But he’s pulling out different sheets from them.

For a moment, I think he’s tearing out all the pages, but no. He’s pulling out folded pieces of paper. Once he has a handful, he takes the papers and unfolds them on the dining table, holding the picture up to each one.

“Peeta?” I still hold Lucy Erryn in my arms as I go up to him.

And I can see what’s on all of those sheets.

Different drawings of a baby.

Of our baby.

Of Branton.

And they look just like the picture.

I inhale sharply, not wanting to believe what’s staring at me in the face.

Peeta turns to me, his eyes huge and full of tears. “It’s him, Katniss,” he whispers. “Branton’s alive.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge kudos to avis11 for letting me use the idea of Peeta having drawings of Branton! It's going to be explored a little bit more in the next chapter too 😉
> 
> Let me know what you think!!
> 
> Also...I know in the movie Haymitch's band is pretty thin (and I can't remember the width of it being described in the book?), but for the sake of this fic, it's different 😅


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am just so overwhelmed with the love this fic has gotten! You lovely readers are the best and I'm so happy you're enjoying this fic! I'm really excited for this chapter and the ending! oh! I'll let yall find out for yourselves, lol!
> 
> Let me know what you think!

“Who’s Branton?” Lucy Erryn’s question breaks the silence.

Even though I’ve been holding her this entire, I forgot she’s here, looking at the same pictures we are. I set her down, “Why don’t you go to your room for a little bit?”

“Am I in trouble?”

“No,” Peeta says, “Your mommy and I just need to talk.”

She nods before getting down on all fours and deciding to crawl the entire way to her room.

I sink into a chair and stare at the photo and the drawings that Peeta had. There are dozens of them. My hand reaches for one of the drawings. “How did you draw these?” I ask. And it’s probably the least important question right now, but it’s the first thing out of my mouth and I’m still trying to process what all of this means.

Peeta sits down. “By memory. And then I tried to imagine how he would look like.” He stares at the photo. “Looks like I made a pretty good guess.”

I drop the picture and look at Peeta. “How many of these have you made?” Again, a question not entirely relevant to the real issue, but I still can’t process it because how can Branton be alive?

“I lost count,” Peeta says. “Katniss-“

“And you never showed me any of them?” My voice takes on a hysterical tone. Because Branton’s alive. It’s impossible, but somehow it’s true and _Branton’s alive_.

“No, and I’m sorry, but I didn’t think it would do you any good to see them and-“

“So now you’re deciding what’s good and what’s not good for me?!”

_Branton's alive_.

“Katniss, that’s not-!”

“What else have you decided isn’t any good for me?! What else have you been keeping from me?!”

_Branton's alive!_

“Katniss, enough!” Peeta slams his hand down on the table.

It’s enough to bring me back to what’s really important. That a picture of Branton was hidden in Haymitch’s band that Finnick gave to us. I’m about to apologize, feeling tears building up as the realization that Branton’s alive is sinking in, when I see Peeta’s eyes.

Pupils blown wide with barely any trace of the soft blue.

“Peeta?” His fingers are turning white from how tightly he has them curled into a fist. I gently place my hand on top of his.

He pulls his hand away and stands so fast the chair falls backward. “Don’t touch me!” he hisses, putting distance between us.

I stand up too, not knowing whether to step back or move towards him.

“You always do this! You always find a way to blame me!” he yells as he stares at me with such fury.

And his eyes are still so black.

I immediately try and think of what he’s talking about. When have I blamed him for the way things have turned out? Have I ever resented him without even realizing it?

My heart physically aches at the sight of those black eyes and the anger on his face that I’ve never seen before. I take a careful step forward. “Peeta…”

He steps back. “No! No, you don’t-!” Then he groans, squeezing his eyes shut. His hands reach up and he tugs his hair, his knuckles turning white.

I’m about to go up to him, pull his hands away and snap him out of whatever living nightmare he’s stuck in.

But then I hear soft pattering feet and a quiet, “Daddy?”

I don’t think Peeta heard Lucy Erryn. He’s still pulling at his hair and now he’s mumbling something.

Before she can get any closer, I go to her, take off her processors and sign for her to go to her room.

Her hands move in argument, trying to look at Peeta and determine if he's okay. My face is stern though as I turn her around and give her a gentle push towards her room.

Only once I see her go back into her room and shut the door, do I turn back to Peeta. His eyes are still squeezed shut and I’m afraid he might start pulling out clumps of his own hair.

I hesitate for a second, remembering how he jerked away at my touch, before going up to him and grabbing his face. “Peeta, look at me.” My voice is firm, but soft.

He squeezes his eyes even tighter and shakes his head.

“I love you, Peeta Mellark,” I say, pressing my forehead to his. His body shudders at the touch. “I love you and I need you to look at me.” I close the distance between our lips.

His body goes rigid and I count the seconds before I finally feel him relax. When he pulls away, he still keeps his forehead pressed to mine and I can hear him taking deep breaths, his hands moving to cover my own.

I look at his eyes and see him staring back at me with the familiar blue. “Katniss, I-“

I cut off what I’m almost sure is an apology with a kiss. “I’m sorry,” I say. Because he has nothing to apologize for. “I know you don’t keep important things from me and I…” My breath comes out in a shudder as I think of all the drawings that are still spread out on the table and the single photograph. “Branton’s alive. He’s alive, Peeta. He’s been alive this whole time, hasn’t he?”

“Yeah. I don’t know…” Then he stumbles a little and his breathing hitches. “I need to sit down.”

He sits at the dining table and I sit next to him. We ignore the chair that’s still toppled over on the floor.

I go back and forth from looking at the chair, remembering Peeta’s black eyes, to the pictures of Branton spread across the table.

It’s a miracle my breathing is as steady as it is.

Maybe it’s so steady though because I still can’t believe Branton’s alive.

Only until I can hold him in my arms will I truly believe it.

That’s when my breathing hitches and I feel a sob threatening to burst free.

If it’s true, that Branton’s alive, then he’s been with someone else this entire time. He’s smiling in the picture, They’re taking care of him. Someone else has been the first thing his eyes see in the morning, making him smile, holding him when he cries.

And then I see Peeta’s black eyes again.

I press the heels of hands to my closed eyes and the sob finally breaks free.

How can Branton be alive?

What is going on with Peeta?

Who has Branton?

Did I trigger that response from Peeta?

How did Finnick get this picture?

What are they doing to Peeta during those training sessions he can't remember?

Can we survive from now until the Hunger Games?

“What do we do?” I manage to whisper. About Branton. About Peeta. About running away.

Peeta’s holding the picture of Branton. “I don’t know.” Then he takes a deep breath and grabs my hand. “We’ll figure this out. I promise.”

And for the first time in this pregnancy, I feel a familiar flutter.

The baby is moving.

I move my hand a little so I can grab Peeta’s and press it against the spot where the baby is still moving.

A few tears begin falling down his cheeks and despite everything that’s happened in the last _five minutes_ , he smiles. Our world, that has always been so fragile, is crumbling around us and the man in front of me can still smile.

“We don’t have to run yet,” he says softly, his smile fading. “We can stay longer. Figure out where Branton is and if he’s here, we’ll get him back. We’ll bring him with us.”

When will another opportunity like this come up again though? It could take years before we find Branton. We’re barely finding out he’s alive and it was only by accident. How much longer would it take for us to actually get him back?

Can Peeta last that long?

He’s not asking it of me, but only because I know he’ll never consider it on his own. Of leaving, even if Branton really is here in the Capitol.

It’s an impossible decision.

Do I agree to stay to find Branton and watch as Peeta’s mind continues deteriorating? Or do I convince Peeta to leave to stop whatever it is they’re doing to him in those training sessions and leave Branton behind?

Why can’t I have them both with me? All of us together, as a family.

I kiss him, some tension releasing from my shoulders as he reciprocates this time. “I think you should talk with Lucy Erryn. Let her know you’re okay.”

He purses his lips and nods. “Did I…what happened?”

I mean to answer him right away, but I just blink and look at him with a frown.

“I…I blacked out. I don’t remember what happened. I remember feeling terrified and…angry.”

And I can’t stop seeing his eyes almost completely black and the rage on his face as he looked at me.

He grabs my hand. “Did I hurt you?” he whispers.

I let out a breath and quickly shake my head. “No,” I say, squeezing his hand. “You could never hurt me. You just got a little…confused.”

It’s not a complete lie.

And I think he knows, but he doesn’t press me for anymore answers. I hand him Lucy Erryn’s processors and he goes to her room to make sure she’s okay. He picks up the chair from the floor as he passed by.

I turn my attention back to the drawings and the picture of Branton. I look at it closely, trying to find any kind of clue. I have to find something. Because we are not putting off this plan.

We are running. And I will do everything I can to find Branton before we do.

I don’t want to think of what the alternative might be.

The next day, while Peeta’s at work and Lucy Erryn is at school, I go to the one person I trust in showing the picture to.

Even if I do mark out the name on the back. Just in case.

“Well, this is a surprise. I would’ve assumed they would force you into bedrest considering what happened all the other times,” Tigris says as she stands up from her chair behind the counter.

I smile, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. “Dr. Pythain says there’s no need as long as I continue to take my vitamins.”

Which I haven’t been at all and look at how far into my pregnancy I’ve come.

Then Tigris smiles as well, but it’s more like a smirk, as if she knows something I don’t. “I’m sure you have been.” She gestures to the fabric scattered everywhere. “What can I help you find today?”

I don’t think as I hand the picture to her. Because if I do, I’ll hesitate and then I won’t do it and I’ll never find out any information. “Do you have this exact gray? A client needs another jumpsuit for their child.” The lie I practiced rolls easily off my tongue.

Without looking up, Tigris hisses, “Where did you get this picture?”

She knows. She probably knew about him this entire time.

“It’s from my client. They want another jumpsuit like in the picture.”

She grabs my wrist and her claw-like nails dig into my skin. “Do not lie to me, girl,” she growls. “Where did you get this?”

I clench my jaw and refuse to let myself be intimidated by her. “I think you know where.”

She drops my hand, examining the picture again.

“Where is he?” I ask, trying not to let my voice tremble.

“Not in the Capitol anymore.”

My mouth dries. This is what I wanted. To get answers. But I came in here not expecting anything.

Now, I find out that Branton was in the Capitol this whole time?

“What do you mean?”

Tigris looks back at me and hands back the picture. “It’ll make sense one day. But I’m not going to stand here and explain to you everything.”

“Tigris, please. You have to tell me where he is. If not here in the Capitol, then where?”

“Why do you need to know so badly? You went two years without knowing anything.”

“Because we had no idea he was even alive!”

The baby gives a kick and I take a deep breath and remind myself to stay as calm as possible. “Please, Tigris,” I say, my voice much quieter. “Do you have any information that can help us?”

“You won't be safe if I tell you.”

“When have we ever been safe in this place?”

Tigris gives a wry smile. Then she shakes her head a little. “Judging by that jumpsuit, he’s in Thirteen.”

A quick breath escapes my lips. Thirteen. The place we didn’t want to go when we finally ran.

Now we have no other choice.

It feels as if we’re jumping from the frying pan into the fire.

“What are you going to do with this information?”

I swallow hard and push my shoulders back. “We’re going to get him.”

She smiles. “I’m assuming you’re including your husband in this ‘we’?”

“Of course. We’re…” I can’t say it. Even if I might trust her, I can’t voice these plans to her.

Tigris nods though, as if she understands. “No matter what you do, or what happens. Remember what I told you. Don’t you dare let your husband leave your side. Question everything.”

Her words hit me hard. I want to ask for more explanation, but she isn’t going to give it. Especially since she turns away and begins pulling out a few yards of ribbon, cuts it and hands it to me. “Can’t have you leaving empty handed. I’ll charge it to your account.”

With that, she dismisses me. And I have some answers, but now I have even more questions.

But I know one thing for sure.

We have to go to Thirteen.

Once Peeta and I are settled in bed for the night, I turn to tell him our new plan. That we can’t go south like we wanted to.

“Tigris knew about him,” I say, unable to even speak his name. “He’s in Thirteen.”

Peeta gives a small nod. “Then that’s where we’re going.”

And just like that, it’s settled. We’re still leaving and whatever they’re doing to Peeta will stop.

It sounds so simple, our plan. Leave the Capitol. Find Thirteen. Get Branton back. Go south.

It’s so fragile. Anything can go wrong.

I go through every worse-case scenario possible as the time gets closer and we begin packing and hoping that Lucy Erryn is ready for this change.

The night before the Opening Ceremonies, it feels as if we’re reaching the finish line. And nothing has gone wrong yet.

“Just two more weeks,” Peeta whispers as he presses a kiss to my neck.

“Did you remember to pack thermals for Lucy Erryn?”

I feel him smile a little against my skin. “Yes. There’s five for her. Five for you. Five for Delia. Five for me. And five for the baby whenever it comes. We packed that a week ago. Remember?”

I let out a deep breath and nod as I finally drag up that memory. “I think we need to get her more socks. I can send Delia to-“

“Katniss. You packed about twenty pairs of socks for her. She’ll be fine.”

“We’re really doing this,” I whisper.

He props up his head to look at me and nods. “We really are. You, me, Lucy Erryn, Delia. And then Branton and the baby later on.”

Peeta’s eyes are so full of hope. Is it enough hope for the both of us?

I reach up to pull his face in for a kiss, but there’s a loud banging on the front door that startles us.

My first thought is Peacekeepers. They’ve found out about our plans and now they’re going to take us away and Lucy Erryn will be sent with another family and all this planning will have been for nothing.

But if it was Peacekeepers, they would’ve knocked the door down.

Peeta moves quickly, clicking his prosthetic back into place and heading to the door. I get up too, following him out of the room. He looks at me as if he’s about to tell me to stay put. But I won’t listen if he does and he seems to realize this too as he lets out a resigned sigh and continues for the front door.

I linger in the hallway, watching as Peeta goes to the door. He takes a deep breath before calling out. “Who is it?”

There’s only more knocking in response.

Peeta looks at me for a second, before finally opening the door.

Two men stumble in, dressed in black with masks covering the lower half of their faces. One of them has a large bundle tied to his back and is supporting the other man.

Peeta sees the blood before I do and he takes a step back, his fists clenching and his breathing starting to quicken.

The man with the bundle, eases the other man down to the floor and turns to Peeta, pulling down his mask.

It's Finnick.

The bundle on his back begins moving a little and the face of a small child peeks out, looking at us with half-focused eyes before they slip shut again.

The blood in my veins freeze as Finnick looks at both of us and starts explaining.

But I don't hear anything he says and I'm sure Peeta doesn't either.

Because we see the blood on the other man, spilling from his shoulder as he tries to stop it with his hand. I look at Peeta and he’s staring at the blood and his breathing growing ragged.

I move, stepping between Peeta and Finnick. Already, I can see his pupils growing and growing until the blue is completely gone. “Peeta, stay with me,” I say as I cup his face.

He tenses at my touch, but his eyes are focused on me. And I can see him fighting back whatever nightmare he's seeing.

"Catnip?"

I inhale sharply and turn around.

The other man lowers his mask.

It's Gale.

But then I hear Peeta making a strangled sound and I turn my full attention back to him.

His eyes have gone completely black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'll be honest, when I was writing this chapter, not even I was prepared for the turn it took 😅


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter is finally here! Sorry for the slight delay in getting this one out. Whole lot of family things going on with the Holiday's and then family birthdays too. It's just a busy time, but here's the chapter! Expect to see the chapter count go up again. This chapter ended up being split into three different chapters, but what can you do? Anyways, I hope you readers enjoy this chapter! 
> 
> I'm so grateful for each and everyone one of you with all of your comments and kudos! Thank you so much!! Let me know what you think of this chapter!
> 
> *TW Warning*  
> Mentions of domestic abuse

Moments ago, I wondered how Peeta’s eyes could hold so much hope. I thought that maybe he was privy to some information that I didn’t know. Saw a future that promised we would be happy and free and no longer living under the whims of the Capitol society.

But now his eyes are black, and his face contorted in an anger that’s even worse than when we found out Branton’s alive.

“Did you know about him?” he asks in a way that makes it clear he already thinks he has the answer.

“No.” I make my voice clear, trying to break through whatever’s fogging his mind and twisting it against me. “Peeta, I-“

“He’s supposed to be dead! He can’t be here, but you knew about him this entire time!”

I haven’t even begun to process for myself that Gale is right behind me and all that his presence might entail. Yet, Peeta’s accusing me of knowing it this entire time and while I know he’s not in his right mind at the moment, it _hurts_.

Then Finnick is jumping between us. “Whoa, hey, Peeta, listen to me. Katniss knew nothing, okay? It was too risky to get either of you involved and the only reason why we’re here-“

Peeta places a hand on Finnick’s shoulder and shoves him with enough force that he slams into the wall.

A cry gets stuck in my throat as I watch, making sure the child on Finnick’s back is fine at least. It is, since Finnick spun a little to let his side bear the brunt of it. I turn my focus to Peeta again and he’s standing inches away from me.

My survival instincts scream at me to step back. To get as far away from him as possible and to let him pull himself out of this on his own.

Because he could snap me in two so easily.

But I hold my ground. “Peeta, this isn’t you. Please, listen to me. I love you.”

He places his hands on my shoulders, gripping them tightly as I feel his body beginning to tremble. I try not to hold my breath as I start seeing the blue come back.

Then Gale decides to speak. “Fuck, Mellark. Didn’t think you’d turn out like your mother.”

It happens so fast.

The blue that was starting to come back, disappears and he pushes me to lunge at Gale. It’s not necessarily a rough push, but I’m seven months pregnant and I brace myself for the fall.

But then Finnick somehow manages to grab me and ease me carefully to the ground. And just as Peeta has his hands wrapped around Gale’s throat, Finnick has a needle out and he plunges it into his shoulder.

Within seconds, Peeta’s body goes limp and Finnick eases him off of Gale as the latter grunts in an effort to control the pain of the wound in his shoulder.

There is too much going on and I am overwhelmed with everything that my mind and heart has decided to zero in on the one thing that’s the most important.

“What did you do to him?” I hiss at Finnick as I make my way to Peeta, slumped against the floor right next to Gale.

“It’s just a small dose of morphling. He’ll be out for a few hours, but he’ll wake up in time for the Opening Ceremonies,” Finnick answers.

I hold Peeta’s face and, despite what Finnick said, try to wake him.

“I get that there’s a lot going on right now, but I’ve got someone over here with a pretty serious injury and I wouldn’t want to get your carpet stained with blood.”

I turn to glare at him, and as I do, I realize Gale’s staring at me.

Eyes that I thought had been closed forever.

And then I think of Peeta’s eyes. Black as the nights in the arena.

“There’s a first aid kit in the panic room,” I tell him, adding in the code for the pin pad hidden behind the canvas art as well. Then I focus back on Peeta. Because right now, this is the one thing I understand even if I don’t have all the details. That they are somehow twisting his mind and I have to remind him who he is.

That he loves me and I love him.

I don’t register Finnick moving until I hear Gale moaning. Another reminder that he’s here and he’s alive and I don’t know understand how any of this is possible.

As I hear the door of the panic room opening, it sinks in that Peeta really isn’t going to wake up anytime soon. But when he does, is he going to remember anything?

A horrible thought comes into my mind, but I quickly push it out. Not before I actually consider it though.

Will his eyes still be black when he wakes up?

Peeta’s too heavy for me to carry him to the room. Especially with my rounded stomach. I’ll have to wait until Finnick comes back out.

So, I turn my attention to the child lying on the ground that Finnick left behind.

It’s a girl, a little bigger than Lucy Erryn, with jet black hair, skin just a shade darker than my own and freckles on her nose. She’s asleep, but then I think of Finnick injecting Peeta with the morphling.

Did he do it to her too?

And why?

What the hell is going on?

I’m in the middle of trying to figure out how to pick her up and put her somewhere more comfortable when I hear footsteps behind me.

“So. Do you have any coffee?”

“No,” I ground out as I turn my head to look at him. “Not until I get some answers.”

Finnick at least has the decency to look sheepish. “Do you have a place I can lay her down?”

I get up, refusing Finnick’s hand to help me. “The guest bedroom. Second door on the right.”

He nods, picking the girl up gently and carrying her down the hallway. But not before calling out, “I’ll help with Peeta too.”

I clench my teeth to bite back whatever scathing remark might slip. He shouldn’t have to help with Peeta. Because Peeta shouldn’t be knocked out. And Finnick shouldn’t be here with Gale or this little girl and _nothing is making any sense_.

Just two more weeks. Two more weeks before we can leave and not have to deal with things we don’t understand.

But is that really going to happen now?

Finnick comes back again and with a small grunt, he manages to lift Peeta over his shoulder.

This time, I lead him to the room and turn on a lamp as he drops Peeta on the bed. He steps back as I cover him with blankets, take off his prosthetic, and make sure he’s as comfortable as possible.

When I finish, Finnick is waiting in the doorway. “What’s going on with him? Why did he react like that?”

I actually laugh. Humorless and dark. “You don’t get to ask any kind of questions right now. I want an explanation of what the hell you’re doing here with a little girl that doesn’t belong to you and _Gale_?”

Finnick’s jaw clenches, but he moves down the hallway and sits at the dining table. I join him, ignoring his previous request for coffee and making sure the blood on the wall is not in my line of vision.

Without any further prompting, Finnick begins, giving the barest details, but enough to make the information dangerous.

The girl belongs to a woman from District Five. They were taking her from a couple in the Capitol that was raising her as their own. Him and Gale. Who is very much alive. Along with hundreds of others from Twelve.

Including my mother and Prim.

But not Peeta’s family.

The plan was for Finnick to help Gale get out of the Capitol with the girl and take her to Thirteen. But they ran into Peacekeepers and this was the only place Finnick could think of to hide out at until things calmed down and the rebels could send in an evacuation team.

“How long would that take?” I ask.

His lips quirk into a humorless smile. “Considering it’s Gale, I don’t think it’ll take long at all.”

The first thought to cross my mind is why did they never try to come for us? Did they really abandon us here? Blow up the arena and leave us to find a way to survive?

“So, is it okay?” Finnick asks. “That they stay here until the evacuation team comes?”

I answer with a question of my own. “Did you know? This whole time, did you know about my family? And about Branton too?”

Finnick looks down.

It’s enough.

When he lifts his face, mouth open to explain, I slap him.

“Get out.” My hands are trembling with rage. If I wasn’t pregnant, I would’ve done a lot worse.

“Katniss, you have to-“

“I said, get out.” I point my finger to the door, not looking there because then I would have to look at the blood.

Two more weeks. Just two more weeks to get through.

Finnick stands, not looking at me. “I’ll get Gale.”

Before he can start walking though, I stop him.

Because really, where else can they go? “He can stay,” I mumble. “Him and the girl.”

His shoulders sag a little in relief. “Thank you, Katniss.”

This time, I do look up at him. “We’re going too,” I say. “When that evacuation team comes, we’re going to Thirteen. But only to get Branton back and then we’re leaving.”

Finnick frowns a little. “Where?”

“Anywhere. So long as we can finally get away from everything.”

For a moment, it looks like Finnick wants to ask if he can come too.

I wouldn’t let him. Not after he kept all these secrets from me. Secrets that would have made a difference to me.

Then he glances at the door of the panic room before speaking again. “Don’t mention Branton in front of Gale,” he says.

My brows furrow. “Why?”

He takes a quick breath. “There’s still some things I can’t explain. Not yet. But be careful, okay?”

I want to demand an explanation, but there’s worry in his eyes. Enough so, that I back off and nod.

Finnick purses his lips. “Now will you tell me what’s going on with Peeta?”

My eyes drop down to my wedding ring, my thumb beginning to twirl the ring around and around. “I don’t know,” I say softly. “That’s why we have to leave.”

“Have there been other times?”

“Yes.” My voice is barely above a whisper. “This is the first time he’s ever gotten violent.”

Finnick blows out a long breath, then says. “I’ll make sure the evacuation team gets you out too.”

Tigris’ words come to mind. Not letting Peeta away from my side. “And Peeta too. With Lucy Erryn and Delia.”

Something flickers in Finnick’s eyes. Hesitation? Nervousness? “Yeah, of course.” He lets out a heavy breath. “I should get going. We have a big day tomorrow.”

“Aren’t you worried about the peacekeepers in that outfit?” I ask, gesturing to his black armor.

Finnick shakes his head. “I’ve got regular clothes on under this. I’ll just take it off and dump it somewhere and if the Peacekeepers ask, I’ll tell them I had a business call.” His words are light, but I see the darkness in his eyes.

He walks to the door and I stay at the table. But he pauses and turns to look at me one last time. “A lot of time has passed. People change. Remember that, okay?”

I nod, but his words make me wonder what I just agreed to with letting Gale hide out here.

After locking the door and cleaning the blood off the wall, I finally go back to bed.

Peeta’s snoring. I have to push him onto his side so he stops.

Like second nature, his arms automatically wrap around me. He nuzzles my neck in his sleep, the morphling having worn off and now he's just asleep.

I let his warmth envelop me, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, willing my mind to shut off for a few hours of sleep.

But how can I sleep? There’s a kidnapped girl sleeping in the guest room. Gale is in the panic room, alive and part of the rebels from Thirteen. My family is alive and Finnick has known about it this entire time. And something is very wrong with Peeta.

When I finally feel exhaustion winning the battle in my mind, Peeta’s alarm starts beeping. He scrunches up his face, groaning a little as he blindly reaches over to shut it off.

The sky has barely started turning purple with the impending sunrise. In the darkness, I can see Peeta’s eyes as he opens them.

Sleepy and foggy from sleep, but blue.

“Morning,” he mumbles, pressing a small kiss to my lips. Then he’s moving, pausing for just a moment when sits up to press a hand to his head. He mumbles something about not getting enough sleep last night, before snapping on his prosthetic and going to the bathroom.

I sit up when he closes the door. I don’t think he remembers anything from last night.

As I consider whether to tell him right now or wait until after the Opening Ceremonies, the bathroom door swings open and Peeta comes out.

He stares at me with a slight furrow and his toothbrush in hand with some toothpaste leftover on the side of his mouth. “Something happened last night,” he states.

At least he remembers that something happened. Even if he has no clue what it was.

I give a small nod.

Worry springs into his eyes. “It happened again?” he asks this time.

I nod again, holding his gaze and reassuring myself that his eyes are blue right now.

His mouth forms a thin line as he goes back into the bathroom, washes his face and leaves his toothbrush. He comes out and sits on the edge of the bed beside me. “What happened?”

He listens as I explain things and only interrupts once. After I mention there were survivors from Twelve.

“Did my family make it out?”

And my mind immediately goes to his mother and Gale’s comment last night and I feel anger bubbling in me.

But I try to hide it and shake my head in response to his question.

He lets out a heavy breath, but then nods for me to continue.

I tell him everything. Except for the part where he became violent. Even Peeta has his limits of how much he can smile for the cameras.

Especially today.

“Maybe this is a good thing,” Peeta says. “It’s probably faster and safer to go to Thirteen with this evacuation team that’s coming.”

I nod, despite the growing pit in my stomach.

“We’re going to be okay.” He kisses me again then gets up to finish getting ready.

I wish he would linger, holding me until I believed his words. That we are going to be okay.

But he has to hurry now before he’s late for work.

For the last Opening Ceremonies we’ll ever attend.

He gives me another kiss and repeats again that we’re going to be okay. I think he repeats it more for himself though.

Once he’s gone, I check in on Lucy Erryn. Asleep still and completely unaware to everything that’s happened. I go to the guest room next. The little girl is still asleep as well. I worry how she’ll react to being in an unfamiliar place.

And then there’s Gale.

I don’t want to see him. Because it’s like looking at a ghost and I remember that horrible comment he made to Peeta and how is it possible that he’s been alive after all these years?

But I still open the door to the panic room.

He’s awake, staring up at the ceiling. He turns to look at me when he hears me come in.

And it’s hard to breath because he’s really here.

He sits up with a small groan. “Hey Catnip.”

I swallow hard. “Are you okay?” It’s the only thing I can manage to get out, looking to the bandage on his shoulder and the bruising I can see on his neck from where Peeta wrapped his hands. I force that image from my mind.

Gale shrugs, glancing at his bandaged shoulder. “Just another scar.”

It’s just now registering that he doesn’t have his shirt on. And if I move my head a little, I can see the old scars from when he was whipped by Thread.

Who’s now Vice President. And will destroy us as soon as Snow is dead.

“Are _you_ okay?” Gale asks, eyes glancing down to my stomach, then holding my gaze again.

My eyes snap back to him and I scoff. “No. Nothing’s ever okay here in the Capitol where we’ve been stuck for almost _five_ years now.”

There’s a small twitch in his jaw. “So, then it’s been like this for you all these years?”

I cross my arms. What did he expect? That life would be so easy for me here in the Capitol?

Gale huffs and shakes his head. “Never would’ve expected that of Peeta.”

I stiffen. The baby gives a small tumble and I have to tell myself to relax. “What are you talking about?”

“Come on, Katniss. I bet you have bruises on your arms now. And he tried to _choke_ me. Is that why you’re never in front of the cameras? Because of the bruises he leaves on you?”

He’s accusing Peeta of being abusive.

_My_ Peeta. Who’s always so patient with me, able to smile for the cameras and hide so well the pain that we both go through. Holding me through my nightmares, always making Lucy Erryn laugh, and the pure joy in his eyes whenever I tell him I love him.

But I don’t want to explain things to Gale. Not after he’s compared Peeta to his mother. And Finnick’s right. Even in this small amount of time I’ve interacted with Gale, I know it’s true.

People change.

But maybe it's not Gale that's changed.

It's me.

Through clenched teeth, I say, “You don’t know a damn thing about what’s going on here. But one thing that you should always know is that Peeta would _never_ raise a hand to me or my children.”

He opens his mouth to say something else, but I speak first.

“We’re coming too.”

Gale shuts his mouth, twisting it downwards into a frown. “What?"

“When the evacuation team comes, we’re coming too.”

Gale looks down and blows out a heavy sigh. It’s a moment before he speaks.

“You can’t.”


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this is later than normal! Holidays, amirite?? But to make up for it, it's a bit longer than normal. Next chapter is going to be great...with some answers!
> 
> Thank you everyone for your kind words and kudos and dedication to this fic! It really means so much to me and I am grateful for each lovely reader! Hope you enjoy this next chapter!

The water slowly changes colors as the tea mixes in. It’s still quiet. And I normally prefer my mornings like this. Quiet. Still. Allowing myself time to wake up and think through what needs to get done for the day.

But I wish Lucy Erryn was awake, laughing and running with Peeta clomping behind her as he roars and pretends to be a monster.

I’m even tempted to turn on the TV already and turn up the volume.

Anything to drown out my thoughts and the words Gale told me earlier.

_“You can’t.”_

How dare he.

_“Well, no. I mean_ they _can’t.”_

What does he think?

_“Peeta and Lucy can’t come.”_

That I’m going to leave _my family_ behind?

I take a sip of the tea, knowing the water will burn my tongue.

It does, but my mind barely registers it, still focusing on the conversation.

Or really, my only response to him after that and then his silence.

_“Her name is Lucy Erryn. That’s the name Peeta and I gave her. Lucy Erryn. Not Lucern. Not just Lucy._ Lucy Erryn _. That is her name.”_

I take another sip. A longer one this time. My tongue and throat burn from the hot water.

The front door swings open and Delia comes in.

Face flushed and eyes wide.

Her hands begin moving quickly and I’m trying to keep up and translate the movements into words.

But I catch one phrase and it’s enough to make my blood freeze.

_Peacekeepers._

I grab a notepad and pen from one of the kitchen drawers and hand it to her. She scrawls out what she’s trying to tell me.

_Peacekeepers are here. They’re looking for someone._

Gale. And the little girl.

She doesn’t know about them though. And then it dawns on me why she’s so concerned.

Our traveling bags.

But those can be explained away. The little girl in the guest bedroom can’t.

“Come on,” I say, already hurrying down the hallway. As I pass the room, I hear a small sound of protest from her, but I keep moving until I’m in the guest bedroom and Delia follows after me.

I hear a small gasp from her as she takes in the little girl.

“Can you grab her? She needs to go into the panic room.”

I see all the questions in her eyes, but she nods and does as I ask.

I walk in front of her, opening the door to the panic room and I try not to look at her as Gale comes into view.

“Katniss,” Gale starts, but then he registers Delia and the little girl.

“Mommy?” the little girl mumbles into Delia’s shoulder, rubbing her eyes as she starts to wake up.

“What’s going on?” Gale asks, moving to get up, but then groaning as the movement agitates his wound.

“Peacekeepers are coming,” I say. “Stay quiet.”

Delia set the little girl on the bed and she rubs her eyes and stares at all of us in confusion. “Where’s my mommy?”

And we don’t have time because there’s still the travel bags to take care of and we have to appear as natural as possible.

But I imagine it’s Lucy Erryn instead, in a panic room with strangers and wondering where her parents are.

I lean down as much as I’m able. “You’re safe. We’re going to get you back to your mommy really soon. I promise.”

Her bright green eyes are full of tears, but she nods at me and sits quietly next to Gale.

Trying to keep my pounding heart still, I walk out of the panic room with Delia and shut the door behind us.

I tell Delia to take care of the travel bags and I go back to the kitchen, trying to control my breathing and appear as if nothing is wrong.

As if I’m not hiding a rebel from Thirteen that should be dead with a little girl that’s been kidnapped.

Seconds later, there’s a firm knock on the door.

I take a sip of the tea. It’s still hot, but not enough to burn me.

I don’t know if Delia’s done hiding the travel bags, but I have to open the door when they knock a second time.

There’s five Peacekeepers and they come in without asking permission. All but one begin searching through the penthouse, practically ransacking the place.

“What’s going on? What do you think you're doing” I ask, moving towards one of them in an attempt to stop him from pulling out one of the drawers in the kitchen and dumping everything out.

The one not searching at all holds up a hologram search warrant for a few seconds and he takes off his helmet. “Sorry to disturb you, but there was a report of two rebels in this area last night. One of them was injured and we believe they’re still here, hiding out and taking advantage of the kind hearts of some poor Capitol family.” He takes a step forward. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about it, would you Mrs. Mellark?”

I force myself to appear confused. “No. I believed the Capitol to be the safest place in Panem.”

I can tell he’s hiding back a scowl. “It’s true. You and your little family will never have to worry about rebels. Unless of course, you make a poor decision.”

“Like what?” I ask, tilting my head and blinking slowly

He looks like he’s about to say something, but then scoffs and shakes his head. Then one of the Peacekeepers that has been ransacking steps out from the guest bedroom and calls the one that was speaking to me over.

I hadn’t even noticed any of them going over there.

What will they say about the unmade bed?

My focus zeroes in on one Peacekeeper who’s about to go into Lucy Erryn’s room. “Stop,” I call out, walking down the hallway. I pass the room and seeing Delia standing in a corner with the bedsheets in arm while two Peacekeepers pull out everything from the drawers and closet. “My daughter’s still asleep. Let me go in there and get her out. Then you can completely trash her room since that’s the only thing you people are doing.”

The man with the search warrant stepped out from the guest bedroom. “May I ask why you have this bed unmade?”

“My daughter likes to play in there. The Avox didn’t make it to there yesterday to clean,” I say, hoping I sound exactly like a Capitolite.

He smirks. “Sounds like your Avox could use a lesson.”

“Have you found anything or are you done ransacking?”

He narrows his eyes, then gives a quick whistle.

The other Peacekeepers stop and stand at attention exactly where they stand. “From what I understand, you have a panic room, correct?”

I swallow hard and nod.

“Would you be so kind as to let us in?”

I force my feet to move. Any hesitation will give it away. I walk to the end of the hallway and move aside the canvas painting where the key pad hides. My fingers press the numbers of the code and I hold my breath. Will Gale be hiding? Will they be sitting on the cot? What’s going to happen to Lucy Erryn now? It won’t be just Peeta that will be punished this time.

We never should’ve opened the door last night.

“That won’t be necessary.”

My finger hovers over the last number. “What?” I ask as I turn around.

He’s not looking at me, already rounding up the other Peacekeepers. “A different lead in the building next door.”

And just like that, they begin filing out. Leaving me to deal with the mess they created.

I can only be thankful that not only did they not get into the panic room, Lucy Erryn’s room was left untouched and she slept through the whole thing.

At the door, the lead Peacekeeper stops. “I want to make sure you’re reassured, Mrs. Mellark. The Capitol is the safest place in Panem. Especially for those who behave as they should."

I don’t have any kind of response for him. He gives a small nod then closes the door behind him.

I go to the room and sink down on the bed, staring at Delia who’s doing her best not to tremble. She steps forward and puts the sheets down. But underneath them are all of our travel bags.

She sits next to me and the words spill from me, telling her everything that happened last night, Finnick being a part of the rebels this entire time, Gale and my family being alive, Peeta becoming a completely different person before my eyes.

She grabs my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. Then she signs, _“Two weeks.”_

And I force myself to smile.

That statement does nothing to improve the morning though.

If anything, things only seem to get worse.

The little girl, whose name I learn is Lambrini, doesn’t stop crying at all. Delia tries to help me with her, but as soon as she figures out that Delia’s an Avox, she refuses to even let Delia look at her.

Lucy Erryn wakes up in a bad mood, crossing her arms and refusing to put on her processors. Not even Delia can coax a smile from her. And when she sees the mess the Peacekeepers left, she starts crying and demands to know where her daddy is.

But somehow, we manage to get both girls sitting at the dining table, eating breakfast with minimal crying. I start helping Delia clean up the mess, starting in the living room. And I pick up book after book and brush away shattered glass from picture frames holding photos of our small family.

And then I start finding drawings. Peeta’s the only one that could’ve done them, but the lines are jagged and rough and…

They’re of the arena. But in all of them, it’s wrong. I’m choking him. I’m trying to push him off the Cornucopia. I’m throwing a nest of tracker jackers at him. I’m holding a knife to his throat.

On all the drawings though, there’s two words written out. _Not real._ In some drawings, it’s small and written in a corner. Other drawings, it’s huge, covering the entire image and it looks as if he traced over the words hundreds of times.

I throw them away before anyone else can see them, tearing each one up in little pieces.

Then it’s time to get ready for the Opening Ceremonies and I sit Lambrini down in front of the TV where Peeta and Caesar are talking about the arrival of this tributes and everything they know about them so far and what predictions they have for the year.

Lambrini is immediately sucked into the show and so am I.

Because I can’t stop looking at Peeta and how _exhausted_ he looks this time. Surely, I can’t be the only one to notice it this year.

Lucy Erryn just doesn’t cooperate at all as I try to get her dressed and I give up on trying to get her to put her processors on. I barely have time to get dressed, throwing on a sleeveless dress that forms around my pregnant belly.

Just as I’m about to walk out the door though, Delia stops me and points to my arms.

I look down and for the first time this entire morning do I notice bruises.

Bruises from Peeta’s hands.

I bite my lip to keep from crying because then my makeup will smear and people will notice and it’ll become a conversation topic during one of the shows and Peeta will have to come up with some kind of lie and I _want to leave this place._

I change into a jumpsuit with sleeves that go down to my elbow. I know my choice will be questioned, considering the summer heat. But it’s better than going with the bruises visible.

And as strange as it is, being at the Opening Ceremonies this year actually feels like I’m getting a small chance to breathe. Even with all the people congratulate me on the pregnancy, touching my rounded stomach. Because I'm not at the penthouse and I can pretend it wasn't just ransacked and Gale is not hiding in the panic room.

I'm reminded though that this is no better though. Because Lucy Erryn runs around the presidential booth with Ophelia, playing a new game.

They’re pretending to be Tributes.

Two more weeks and we’re leaving, with or without help from the rebels.

Once all the Tributes for this year have been paraded around, I leave with Lucy Erryn and wait in the usual back hallway for Peeta. I’m already thinking of what needs to get done as soon as we leave. We’ll drop Lucy Erryn off with Effie before getting to the penthouse. Peeta can deal with Lambrini since he’s better with kids and I’ll have Delia check in on Gale, his bandage and that he has food and I can get ready for the party tonight.

And then we’ll both have to mentally prepare ourselves for the party tonight and make sure our smiles are as bright as ever.

The crowds are winding down and this is usually the time that Peeta meets up with me and I see someone turning the corner and walking towards me.

But instead of Peeta coming up to me, it’s Johanna. She sees me, I see her. There’s no getting out of whatever conversation she wants to have.

She stops in front of me, giving a quick smile to Lucy Erryn who looks at her only once, then goes back to looking out the window.

“Heard you got a surprise delivery last night,” she says, standing in front of me and looking out the window, trying to find whatever Lucy Erryn is watching.

I’m not surprised that Johanna’s involved in this too. “Counting down the days until it’s returned.”

She smirks. “Thought you’d be a bit more happy about it.” Then as an afterthought, she adds. “Glad you’re not.”

I glance at her. “Careful. Sounds like you don’t agree with them.”

“I don’t.” She turns her gaze to me. “And there’s a few others that don’t either. Whatever you do next, remember that no one is on your side. It’s just you and your little family.”

I swallow hard. The baby kicks and I place a hand in the exact spot. “What about you? Whose side are you on?”

“My own,” she says with a wry smile. Then she surprises me and gives me a hug.

But as her arms wrap around me, she whispers, “There’s going to be a meeting tonight at your place. Finnick's stopping by for it. And whatever you know or think you know, _act dumb_.”

I hope my face doesn’t show any kind of reaction when she pulls away. It helps that as Johanna pulls away, she says. "Shouldn't be too hard for you though." She smiles and gives a quick wave then leaves.

Two more weeks. We only need two more weeks.

Peeta finally comes a few minutes later and we get moving on the second half of our day. We drop off Lucy Erryn at Effie’s, leaving her processors in case she decides she does want them on.

As we’re leaving Effie’s apartment, she grabs my hand. “Have you heard about the searches going on in the area?”

Peeta shakes his head, but I give a small nod. “They came by this morning.”

Effie’s mouth forms a thin line. “Do you…you wouldn’t happen to know anything, would you?”

There’s so much I could tell her. That I’m hiding Gale. Haymitch is probably alive after all this time. We’re planning to run away in two weeks.

“No. We’re just as confused as you are.”

She gives a long sigh then pulls both of us in for a tight hug. “Please be careful.”

Back in the car, Peeta asks me what happened this morning after he left.

“Peacekeepers.”

It’s answer enough.

And despite all the cleaning we did, especially Delia, when we walk into the penthouse, it’s still obvious that it was ransacked.

Peeta pauses at the doorway and takes a deep breath as he processes everything.

I grab his hand and stand with him, still processing things myself too.

Then he squeezes it gently and brings it up to his lips for a kiss. “Two more weeks,” he whispers.

We eat a quick lunch. Delia takes Gale some food and check in on him. After my conversation with him this morning, I don’t want to see him. And when Peeta’s done, he checks on Lambrini, who’s locked herself away in the guest bedroom.

It gives me time to change into tonight’s outfit and make sure Peeta doesn’t see the bruises.

Lambrini is still in the guest bedroom when we leave for the evening. Delia tells us she’ll stay until we get back, to watch Lambrini and Gale.

I thank her and I can’t imagine how much more difficult life would be for us here without Delia’s help and her understanding.

Before we get to the party, I tell Peeta about the meeting Johanna mentioned.

“Did she say with who?”

“No, but I think it’s with the rebels.”

He blows out a heavy breath. The next two weeks are going to be hard. Especially for him, as his face is plastered on screens and he has to pretend everything’s okay.

Just two more weeks.

The party is like every other year. We amble around, picking at the food, drinking water for me and spritzers for Peeta. People come up to us, pulling us into conversations that neither of us care for, but we keep our smiles up and nod along as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world. There are more congratulations and they tell us they hope this time the pregnancy will come through.

The number of Peacekeepers this year seems to have doubled in comparison to the years before. Just like Peeta said it would.

I wonder how we’re going to actually get out of the Capitol. Because right now, that seems like the hard part. Once we do that, everything else will be so much easier.

“You okay?” Peeta asks softly as we pass a group of them.

I link my arm through his and give a small shake of my head. He doesn’t know about the bruises, the conversation with Gale, finding his drawings of the arena. I feel guilty for hiding it from him, but when could I possibly tell him?

He wraps his arm around me as we walk and I rest my head against his shoulder.

For a second, I close my eyes and I imagine we’re safe and happy.

We’re there for a few hours, Peeta shakes hands with the people he needs to for work, and we finally go back to the penthouse. Delia’s still awake and offers to stay, but Peeta and I insist she leave. She’s done a lot today, putting the penthouse back to normal again, watching Gale and Lambrini. We all need to find as much rest as possible in the next couple of weeks.

I’m tired too and wish I could go to sleep already. But Finnick is still going to come and it’ll be a few hours before he comes. He’s still the most desirable Victor and I’m sure there’s clients that have paid for his time tonight.

And I’m just so tired and I’ve been on my feet all day and the baby has been active and I wonder if it’s because of the stress. Without really thinking things through, I go to the room to change into pajamas and Peeta follows.

I start shedding the dress and Peeta sits on the bed. “Do you want a little foot massage?” he asks, slipping off his shoes and loosening his tie.

I groan. “That sounds amazing.”

He doesn’t hum in agreement or laugh or say anything in response.

That’s when I look down and remember the bruises.

Bruises that he can clearly see now.

I slip on the night gown and put on my robe for good measure.

When I turn around to face him though, I can tell by the hard line of his jaw that he’s seen them.

“Let’s go to the living room. Because we do have a tendency to take things further when we’re on the bed,” I say with a tense smile.

Peeta doesn’t smile back. He gets up and walks up to me. Carefully, he pushes down one of the sleeves and his fingers lightly brush one of the bruises.

He doesn’t ask what happened. Instead, he asks, “Did I do this?”

I don’t answer.

It’s enough for him. Because he takes a step back and drops his hand as if I’ve burned him.

Or he might burn me.

“Peeta-“

“No,” he says, shaking his head and running his hand through his hair. “God, Katniss, I…something’s wrong and I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up and-and…I _hurt_ you.”

I think of his drawings I found today and of his black eyes last night, how he becomes a different person. One that doesn’t care whether or not he hurts me.

I don’t know what to say. Nothing I can say will make any of this better.

He takes another step back and then turns and starts walking away.

I quickly step forward and grab his arm to stop him. “No,” I say, still unsure of where my words are going. “Don’t leave.”

He looks down at my hand on his arm.

And I ask him the question I’ve asked him hundreds of times before. “Stay with me.”

He meets my gaze and there’s tears in his eyes. But he nods and grabs my hand, thumb running over and over my wedding ring. “Always.”

We go to the living room and he gives me the promised foot massage. I try to stay awake, but end up closing my eyes. I start dreaming of his drawings. They’ve come to life and this Katniss he sees in his nightmares is coming after me, trying to destroy me and then she’ll go after Peeta.

I don’t know how long I’m stuck in that horrible dream before Peeta’s finally shaking me awake.

I open my eyes and see Finnick standing there, looking even more disheveled than he was last night.

“Johanna give you the message?” he asks.

Peeta nods. “Who are we talking to?”

Finnick doesn’t answer the question. He looks instead towards the panic room. “Gale needs to be here for it too. He’s the one with the comm actually.” Then he looks back to us. “Remember. You don’t know anything about Branton.”

He walks down the hallway and we hear the door opening to the panic room. Peeta and I go ahead and move to the table where there will be more room for us. And the entire time I hold Peeta’s hand, not letting it go as Finnick and Gale come out.

Peeta gives a small exhale as he looks at Gale, wearing a sweater that I’m sure Delia brought to him. Technically, this is the second time Peeta is seeing him, but he doesn’t remember the first time. And as he opens his mouth to say something, I hear his breathing stutter.

He sees the bruises on Gale’s neck.

I squeeze his hand and he looks at me with a question in his eyes.

_Did I do that?_

I purse my lips.

Peeta swallows hard and drags his eyes back to Gale. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “I, um…”

“It’s all right,” Finnick says before Gale can say anything and stopping Peeta from stumbling through an apology for something he can’t even remember.

I still catch the glare Gale gives Peeta. I give him one of my own and hold Peeta’s hand tighter.

Finnick clears his throat as they sit across from us. “You got the comm, right?”

Gale nods, pulling out a small device from his pocket. He presses a few buttons then sets it on the table and a blue light emits from it. Then a few seconds later, the blue light shifts and turns into a hologram of a woman.

Her face is sharp and her smile reminds me of Snow.

_“Katniss Everdeen,”_ she starts and I feel myself bristle and Peeta’s hand tightening around my own. _“We finally meet. I’m Alma Coin. Leader of District Thirteen and the Rebel Army.”_


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new years my lovely readers! To bring in the new year right, I present to you a chapter finally full of answers. Hope you enjoy!

There are more important things to focus on. Like the fact that we’re speaking to the leader of the rebels. That Gale’s hiding out here and bringing us into further danger. That Finnick and Johanna and who knows how many other Victors are part of the rebellion.

But that’s not what I choose to focus on.

I focus on my name. My name that she got wrong. And I’m so tired of people getting our names wrong. With Lucy Erryn and now me and it’s just another way that everyone is trying to change us into someone that we’re not.

“My name is Katniss _Mellark,"_ I practically growl.

Coin keeps the smile on her face, but it’s strained now. _“I’m sorry. I’m not in the habit of recognizing illegitimate marriages.”_

“There was nothing ‘illegitimate’ about it,” Peeta says, voice hiding his annoyance and frustration and exhaustion. “Katniss is my wife and her name is Katniss Mellark.”

Gale snorts.

I shoot him a death glare.

 _“It doesn’t matter,”_ Coin says.

“Yes, it does!” I snap.

She continues speaking as if I hadn’t interrupted. _“What matters is what the people call you. And they are still calling you the Mockingjay.”_

I inhale sharply.

_“While the timing isn’t ideal, we’ve been in contact with Commander Hawthorne and we can safely extract you from the Capitol. You can rightfully take your place as the Mockingjay.”_

I can’t help the small laugh that leaves my lips. “Are you serious?”

 _“Very.”_ Coin’s face remains steady, no hint of amusement in her eyes. _“The Mockingjay is the face of the rebellion. Always has been, always will be. And the Mockingjay can’t be anyone but you, Miss Everdeen. Excuse me,_ Mrs. Mellark _.”_

After five years, and this title I’ve never sought out still haunts me.

I look past her hologram, across the table to Gale. He told me this morning only I could get out. Not Peeta. Not Lucy Erryn. Not Delia.

By the way he’s not meeting my eyes and Coin speaking in the singular, I understand that’s still their plan.

But Peeta and I have our own.

I bring my hand up to the table. The one that’s holding Peeta’s hand. And I still hold it tightly, making sure everyone can see our clasped hands. “I’m not going anywhere without my family.”

Coin nods. _“Of course. Your mother and sister are here waiting for you.”_

I push down the longing to see them and run my thumb over one of Peeta’s callouses. “I’m talking about my family _here_. Peeta, Lucy Erryn, and Delia.”

Coin’s lips form a thin line. _“There are things you don’t know and don’t understand-“_

“Because no one tells us _anything!_ ” I yell. I take a quick breath and remind myself to lower my voice. Lambrini is asleep and she can wake up with loud noises. “We have been stuck in this place for _five_ years because you and your people decided to bomb the arena. And then you left us here to fend for ourselves.”

_“We didn’t bomb the arena.”_

Her revelation leaves the room silent. Then Peeta speaks. “What do you mean?”

_“Snow found out about our original plan. Which was to have the evacuation during the Games. In an act of prevention, he ordered the arena bombed, blamed it on us and retaliated by bombing District Twelve. After that, it was too risky to try an evacuation.”_

Then Peeta starts shaking his head. “No. No, that’s not true. Because it’s you. Your people. You’re the ones responsible for all the kidnappings these last few years. How can you say it's too risky when you've been kidnapping children from the Capitol for at least two years now?"

“They’re not kidnappings if we’re returning the children back to where they belong,” Gale says.

Then why haven’t we seen Branton yet?

The question sits on the tip of my tongue, but I catch Finnick giving me a sharp look.

So I swallow it and it gives time for Coin to continue.

_“Yes, it is true. But I’m sure you would agree when I say it’s much easier removing a child from the Capitol instead of someone who’s husband is constantly broadcasted on public television.”_

Peeta’s jaw tightens and I look at him, just to make sure I can still see his blue eyes.

“What’s changed then? Why do you want to do this now?” I ask.

 _“Because of Commander Hawthorne’s position. We have to send in a team for him, might as well pull you out as well.”_ Coin smiles, as if this is possibly the best news I could ever receive.

“Peeta, Lucy Erryn, and Delia are coming too. _My family_ is coming with me.”

Coin shakes her head. _“That isn’t possible.”_

I place my other hand over mine and Peeta’s clasped hands. “Then I’m not going.”

_“Lucy Erryn has a tracker inside of her.”_

Peeta and I both stiffen at the same time.

_“During the operation to put in her implants, a tracker was placed inside of her as well. Considering the location of it, it’s not something that can easily be removed. It requires another operation.”_

I knew it. I knew they put something else in her.

“Don’t you have medics? Can’t they take it out?” Peeta asks, not bothering to hide his worry for our daughter.

_“Of course, but that’s not our only issue."_

Peeta leans forward. “What else is the problem?”

_“You, Mr. Mellark.”_

The only thing preventing me from grabbing the comm and tossing is against the wall is Peeta’s hand firmly holding my own.

_“People in District Thirteen, or any of the Districts, don’t take very kindly to someone they considered one of them spewing Capitol propaganda. And that’s what you have done a daily basis, Mr. Mellark. Reporting all the good the Capitol does, how the Districts are happy to be under the Capitol, and commentating on the Games like the show the Capitol would have everyone believe. You even oversaw multiple executions in the Districts and did nothing to stop them. How do you expect someone who has done all of these things to be accepted by those who have been controlled for so long by the Capitol?”_

“And you don’t think we haven’t been controlled?!” I yell. “Peeta doesn’t-“

_“There’s always a choice.”_

Fire is bubbling in me, but before any of it can escape my lips, Peeta speaks.

“I did it for the safety of my family.” Peeta’s voice is low and calm. He’s staring at our clasped hands, his finger running over and over the pearl of my wedding ring. His words are like water to my roaring fire. But I think I'm the only one that can hear in his tone the threat of a flood that can bring just as much destruction as a fire.

_“Some might argue that’s a selfish reason in comparison to the plight of those still living in the Districts, never experiencing the same kind of comforts you have after living in the Capitol.”_

With every word, I feel Peeta’s hand tightening mine to the point where it’s starting to hurt. His breathing is growing faster and he keeps his head bowed and eyes closed.

And I have had enough.

“I will _not_ be your Mockingjay.”

Coin frowns, turning her attention to me. She opens her mouth to say something, but I cut her off.

“I am done with the Capitol and the rebels and not being able to make a decision based on what’s best for _my family_. You say you want what’s best for the people of Panem, but then you place us in danger by having Gale stay here. Peacekeepers came here this morning and they almost found him and Lambrini! Do you know what they would’ve done to us?

“You talk as if you know what it’s like to live here. To have to have a mask on every time you step out of that door and to live so far buried under Snow’s thumb that any decision made is based on what he’ll do to us. You have insulted us without knowing anything about living here. You don’t know what we go through, _especially_ my husband. And tomorrow, Peeta will go out there, his mask firmly on, and pretend as if nothing happened and he knows nothing of you. Because he is the best one out of _all_ of us.”

I pause to take a breath. And I can hear Peeta’s breath steadying as well.

“I’m not going to be your Mockingjay,” I say as I give Peeta’s hand another gentle squeeze.

Coin’s face is unreadable. _“An opportunity like this doesn’t come very often. Are you sure you would rather live in the Capitol and do nothing to help the Rebellion?”_

“Yes.”

Coin gives a small nod. _“If that’s what you think is best. Commander Hawthorne, I believe it best if you find somewhere to find refuge.”_

“He can stay,” Peeta says as he looks at Gale. “He just needs to be gone before the Hunger Games begin.”

She nods again. _“Very well. Mrs. Mellark, I hope you understand what you’ve just turned down.”_

And with that, the hologram disappears

No one moves or speaks for the next few seconds.

Until Gale stands, loudly scraping his chair across the floor. “War’s coming, Katniss. Whether you want to believe it or not, you’re a part of it too.”

I don’t look at him as he walks back down the hallway and goes back into the panic room.

It’s not until the door slides shut does Peeta finally pull his hand away from mine. He covers his face with his hands and for the first time in a long time, I’m not sure what he’s thinking.

Then Finnick clears his throat. “I know it’s been a long night, but there’s something else you both need to know.”

I am drained and want to tell him to just leave.

But Peeta drags his hands down and asks in a heavy voice, “What else is there?”

“They’re hijacking you, Peeta,” Finnick. “They’re trying to get it done by the end of the Games this year.”

Fear coils in my stomach. Neither of us knows what that is and Finnick picks up on our confusion. He starts explaining

I wish he didn’t.

But it explains everything. The drawings. His blackouts. Forgetting things. His pupils going so black you wouldn’t know his eyes are the prettiest blue.

I reach out to grab Peeta’s hand, but he draws back, putting distance between us.

“And the end goal of it?” he asks, his voice trembling slightly.

“They want you to kill Katniss.”

I reach for his hand again, but this time Peeta stands and begins pacing.

“An ending to the Star-Crossed Lovers that Snow and Thread can use to convince the Capitol that anyone from the Districts is a savage. They want to turn everyone in the Capitol completely against the Districts. Gale was right. War is coming and no matter what either of you do, you’re both stuck playing a role in it.”

It feels like choosing between two evils.

Why can’t there be a third option?

Finnick leans forward. “Make a bargain with them. They need you as the Mockingjay for this final push, Katniss. Tell them you won’t go without Peeta and Lucy Erryn and Delia. I know Coin said there won't be another opportunity, but she doesn't want to show how desperate they are."

I scoff. "She already said no. What makes you think she'll change her mind?"

Finnick purses his lips as his eyes dart towards Peeta, then back to me. "Let them place conditions. Specifically on Peeta coming."

Peeta doesn't stop pacing. I ask, "What kind of conditions?"

"He would make a good prisoner of war for them."

"No," I say through clenched teeth. "Peeta has done nothing wrong. If they have a problem with him, then they have a problem with me too."

Finnick runs a hand down his face. "I know, Katniss, but there are hard decisions you are going to have to make. And don't think I don't know anything about it. I do. I...I want to keep my family just as safe as you do yours and I- _we_ had to make a hard decision."

I don't want to believe him. I don't want to believe that the only other force in this world that might have a chance at bringing Snow and Thread and the Capitol down might be just as bad as them.

But Finnick keeps talking and cements even more in my heart what I'm starting to believe of the rebels.

“They didn’t want to take Annie in because she's a Victor and they said she was too closely watched too. But we...our son, Kelvan…he needed to be kept safe too."

I want to tell him to stop. That I don't want to know what they did. What they _had_ to do.

Finnick lowers his voice and even though he struggles with the words, he continues talking. "Sometimes Annie's…her time in the arena affected her mind. Badly. They didn’t believe Annie was fit to be a mother either. We made a deal. Annie and Kelvan could hide in Thirteen. But Kelvan was placed in a different family. One they believed was better suited to care for him since I’m still out here and what they believe of Annie.”

And it makes me sick, what Finnick has to do just to make sure his own family is safe. Not just what the Capitol makes him do, but what the rebels make him do too.

“Annie agreed?” I ask, unable to imagine Lucy Erryn being placed with another family.

It’s happened with Branton here in the Capitol, but we never knew until recently. But if that happened with Lucy Erryn, _knowing_ about it…it might destroy us both.

Finnick nods, still not looking up. “It was hard, but war is full of making hard decisions.”

Peeta stops in his pacing and asks something that hasn’t even occurred to me.

“Is that what happened with Branton? Is that why you don’t want us mentioning him at all?”

Finnick lets out a heavy sigh. “You heard Coin earlier. She doesn’t believe your marriage is legitimate since technically you both were forced into it. I know things have changed, but they don’t see that. So while the Capitol took Branton to place him in one of their families almost like a trophy, the rebels took him back and placed him with a different family. Because how can two people who are forced to live together be good parents?”

Again, I feel anger rising in me. It’s surprising from how drained I am, but it’s there. “How can they think that?” I ask, trying to keep my voice calm. Because it’s not Finnick’s fault.

It’s Coin’s.

Finnick gives me a sad smile. “Because you're never in front of the cameras. They only see Peeta. For all they know, your relationship with the Peeta hasn't changed from what it was before the Quarter Quell. It's one of the reasons why they..."

Finnick trails off and his face has gone pale.

Peeta takes one steps towards him. "'Why they' what?"

He glances down the hallway, towards the panic room. "If they found out I told you..."

The baby kicks, jolting me. I wonder if it can feel my dread, worry, fear, panic.

Finnick looks back at us. And his eyes are wide and at the edges I see desperation. "They didn't want you to have anymore children. Because Snow's plan was to take them away and place them in Capitol families, but also because they believed you weren't suitable parents."

My ears are ringing. As if a bomb has dropped.

One did. Metaphorically.

I don't register Peeta sinking into the chair beside me again. Then his voice is rising and Finnick is holding out his hands, trying to explain.

Nothing was wrong with me. It wasn't my fault.

Peeta stands again, leaning over the table, pointing an accusatory finger in Finnick's face.

It wasn't the Capitol. It wasn't Snow. It was the rebels. It was Coin. Taking away a choice from me.

A freedom.

I reach for Peeta's hand. Because I need to be grounded to reality right now.

Escaping into my mind is tempting, but I can't do that.

I meet Peeta's gaze and his pupils have dilated again.

My breath hitches and my eyes fill with tears. Not now. Please, Peeta not now.

"I need you."

He squeezes his eyes for a few seconds. And when he opens them again, they match my own.

Loss. Betrayed. Hopeless.

"I didn't know." Finnick's voice breaks through. "Not until your last pregnancy."

My hand covers my stomach. No matter who's in charge, someone will try and take away this child from us.

I'm even more determined now to not be their Mockingjay.

“You can’t stay here," Finnick says. "Especially once the Games start this year. Things are only going to get worse and you have to get out. _Both_ of you. And the only way to do that is to make a deal with the rebels."

The idea makes my stomach turn. Peeta's hand tightens in my own and I see him fighting back the hijacking.

"There are people higher up on the chain of command with the rebels that don't want to see either of you hurt. They'll listen and do everything they can to help."

I would bet half my money Gale's name isn't on that list of people that would help us. No, wait, it's _Commander Hawthorne_ now.

Finnick lets out a heavy sigh and he stands. “I can set up another meeting. Talk to some people that are there with Coin and get her to listen to you. Snow and Thread need to be removed from power. Then we can deal with everything else." He takes a deep breath and adds, "I'm sorry. Really. Maybe things would've been better if the arena for the Quarter Quell was never bombed."

How could going through another arena be any better than what we're facing now?

Finnick leaves and we’re left sitting in the deafening silence of the penthouse.

Peeta is the one that moves first, wordlessly getting up and pulling me with him. We get into bed and curl up into each other and I'm sobbing, feeling his own tears mixing with my own.

Finnick's right. We have to decide. Even if both choices might destroy us in the end.

"Peeta-"

He silences me with kiss pressed to the side of my mouth. "Not now, Katniss. We can talk about it later. Just not now."

I fall into a restless sleep, wrapped in Peeta's arms. He’s gone when I wake up in the morning though. I ignore the initial jolt of panic, reminding myself that it’s the busiest time of the year for him. He’ll be at the studio already, recording live with Caesar and talking about the Tributes and their training and interviewing Mentors and the Head Gamemaker and anyone who might have something interesting to say to add to the show.

I hear Delia in the kitchen already, the sound of vegetables sizzling in a pan and the TV on already. Lambrini must be awake too.

I get up, not glancing at the TV as I pour myself a cup of tea. Delia looks at me with a slight frown. I'm sure I look terrible after last night. She wags her finger then holds up a hand and with the other brushes up and down against the opened hand.

_Where's Peeta?_

"What do you mean?" I ask, turning my attention to the TV and expecting to see him on the screen next to Caesar.

He's not. Instead, it's a woman and underneath her it says, _Guest Commentator._

A lump forms in my throat and it's difficult to breathe.

Even though I have no proof, I know what’s happening to him right now.

They’re continuing the hijacking.

And as much as I hate the idea, the rebels are our only hope right now.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A longer chapter again because the update didn't come out when I wanted it to! Hope you all enjoy this chapter and thank you always for your thoughts. I'm definitely looking forward to your thoughts for this one...

The plan for today was to try and pretend as if everything was normal. Even with Lambrini in the penthouse, asking for her parents and Delia stepping into the panic room every hour to make sure Gale was fine or to bring him food or water.

But as the hours go by and Peeta still doesn’t come on screen, the harder it is for me to pretend and keep a smile on my face to keep the girls from worrying.

Finally, he comes on screen. Eyes too bright and smile too stiff and a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead that no makeup seems to conceal.

As soon as Delia sees him, I can tell she’s worried. But she doesn’t bring it up, maybe thinking that I don’t notice it and trying to keep me from worrying.

How could I not notice though? I know my husband almost better than I know myself.

Delia offers to stay late after we put the kids to bed. But I tell her it’s not necessary. And I can see it in her eyes that she wants to ask what’s wrong.

She doesn’t. And it’s for the best. Because if something happens, things will be better for her if she doesn’t know everything.

I try and stay up to wait for Peeta to come back, sitting on the sofa with my feet propped up on the coffee table. I end up dozing off though and the next time I fully wake, he’s sitting across from me, pulling my feet into his lap and staring at me with a desperation that scares me.

“What’s my favorite color?” he whispers.

I rub my eyes, trying to gather my thoughts. “What?”

“My favorite color. I can’t remember what it is.”

The thoughts are starting to clear and I remember.

They’re erasing the part of him that make him Peeta. That make him the man I love and the man that loves me.

“Orange.”

His face screws up a little in protest, but I continue.

“Soft. Like the sunrise.”

His throat bobs as he swallows. He lets out a deep breath and nods. “Orange,” he repeats, looking down at my swollen feet and begins massaging them. “And yours is green.”

It’s the same thing the next day, Peeta is missing for the first half of the day and when he comes back on screen, his demeanor is too forced. When he comes back, he goes straight into the kitchen, pulls out the ingredients to make a simple loaf of bread, despite the late hour.

Instead of scooping out the ingredients into the mixing bowls, he just stares at them.

I get up and place a hand on his arm.

He stiffens and his breathing hitches. But then he clenches his fists, takes several deep breaths and I feel him relax. “I don’t remember how to make bread.”

I wrap my hand around him arm this time and gently pull him. “Let’s get to bed.”

In the morning, I wake up as he’s getting ready. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, staring down at his untied shoes.

I sit up and pat the bed. He doesn’t look at me as he turns and brings his feet up. I tie his shoes, double knotting them like he always does.

“I love you,” I say as he gets up.

A moment too long passes before he says it back.

Mumbling and not looking at me.

This can’t go on.

I don’t know how to get in contact with Finnick without raising any kind of suspicion and I sure as hell refuse to talk with Gale about any of this.

But who else can get me in contact with the rebels? With Coin? Because I have to make a bargain now. Anything will do, so long as it means Peeta gets out of here.

A new thought occurs to me though.

The rebels aren’t the only ones I can make a bargain with.

I have one of their leaders hiding in my panic room. A _commander_.

Would the cost of turning in Gale be enough to cover the cost of having Peeta back?

A second after the thought, I feel sick, unable to believe that the thought even occurred to me.

“What if you just don’t go in tomorrow?” I tell him as soon as we’re in bed for the night.

He rubs a hand over his face, the dark circles under his eyes have been steadily growing over the last few days. If this continues, the makeup won’t be able to cover it anymore.

“They’ll just come and get me.”

The baby starts rolling around. I grab Peeta’s hand, ignoring how he initial flinches at the touch, and place it against my stomach.

“You have to get out of here, Katniss.”

“Not without you,” I say as I squeeze his hand.

“But I-“

“Not. Without. You.” I turn to look at him. He doesn’t look at me. He’s been avoiding my gaze more and more. “We stay together. Remember. You have to stay with me.”

He looks at me, exhausted and pale and eyes almost glassy. He doesn’t say anything. Just squeezes my hand before his eyes slip shut and he falls into a restless sleep.

There is no ‘I love you’ that night. Or the next morning.

Now it’s been a full week and we only have so many days left to actually do something. And I feel desperate and that idea of turning Gale in comes to mind more often than I’d like to admit.

We’re in the living room, me and Delia on the couch, watching the live stream while Lucy Erryn and Lambrini play on the floor. They’ve become reluctant friends since we've found out Lambrini's a few years older than Lucy Erryn and doesn't want to play 'baby' games. But being stuck inside with no one else to play with has changed her attitude. She’s even picked up several words in sign language, her first sign being ‘hungry’.

There’s a knock on the door that startles both me and Delia. She looks to me, asking if I’m expecting anyone.

I shake my head and we both turn to look at the closed door.

She gets up to answer it and I look at Lucy Erryn and Lambrini. Are they about to see me being taken away by Peacekeepers?

At the door though, it’s Cressida.

I half expect to see a camera crew behind her, more recordings for Panem to prove we are happy and for the Districts to be happy too.

“Can I come in?” she asks, her voice steady, but as I get up and move closer, I notice the way her fingers tap an unsteady beat.

I nod, glancing at Delia with what I hope is a reassuring look.

Cressida comes in, closing the door behind her. She doesn’t hesitate when she says, “I need to speak with Gale.”

It shouldn’t surprise me that she’s involved in all of this too. Not after overhearing that strained conversation between her and Tigris. But I still feel a little shock.

Cressida sees it but interprets it differently. Because she steps forward and with a hint of pleading in her voice, she adds, “Please.”

I look to Delia and say, “Let her in.”

Delia nods, glancing at Cressida with a healthy amount of distrust, then walks down the hallway to the panic room. I sit back on the couch, watching the TV, waiting for Peeta to come on screen, and ignoring the sound of the panic room door sliding open and shut.

Delia comes back and sits next to me. And we wait. For Cressida to come out. For Peeta to show up on screen. For this nightmare to be over.

A little over two hours pass when Cressida finally comes out. I notice her eyes and the tip of her nose are red. When she speaks though, it’s with that same steady confidence she always has. “Finnick’s coming tonight.”

Another meeting then. I wonder if Gale is going to be included. I hope not.

Then, as if reading my thoughts, Cressida says, “I’m not trying to make up excuses for him, but…” She looks down, swallows hard. “He’s always pushed to get you out as soon as possible.”

And I hear that singular word again. You.

Excluding Peeta. Since the beginning.

“It’s not an excuse,” I say.

Cressida smiles wryly. “I know.”

She leaves and I turn to look at the TV.

I’ve missed the transitional moment when the guest of the day leaves and is replaced by Peeta.

Today is by the far the worst he’s ever looked.

And it’s only going to get even worse.

Even Lucy Erryn is staring at the TV, her head tilted and slight frown on her face. She asks, “Is Daddy sick?”

I don’t answer her, going into the kitchen instead and pulling out items to start dinner already. Even if it’s still too early.

The hours drag by. Especially after the girls have gone to bed and Delia leaves for the night. I think of what kind of meeting we’ll have tonight. Will it be with Coin again? Another pointless argument with neither of us agreeing on anything. Will they say that I have no other choice and force me into the role of the Mockingjay?

I’m almost certain of one thing though. That Coin will never agree to letting me have my family by my side.

Peeta finally comes back. When I lean in to kiss him, he turns his head and I kiss his check. Then he begins muttering something and kisses me on the lips.

Quick and hesitant.

My heart clenches, but I don’t push it.

I tell him of the meeting with Finnick tonight.

A small scoff escapes his lips. “Why? We already know what’s going to happen. They’ll take you, whether or not you want to go.”

Bitterness and anger coat his words.

Finnick said the hijacking would be done by the end of the Hunger Games. We still have time.

But now I wonder if it’ll be enough.

Finnick comes in and we sit at the dining table, just like last time. Except Finnick doesn’t get Gale.

There’s barely a greeting between us as he starts the call. A hologram appears, but it’s not Coin.

It’s Haymitch.

We’re all silent for a few moments, taking each other in and seeing how the years have changed us.

I’ll be the first to admit that Haymitch hasn’t aged as much as I thought he would’ve. And his eyes actually look clear and sober. But there is regret there and it makes me look away to Peeta’s hands, clasped together and resting on the table. Probably to keep from fidgeting.

“ _Hey,_ ” Haymitch finally says, his voice gravely. He clears his throat. “ _You two are still causing quite the stir._ ”

I don’t understand why. The only thing either of us wants it to just survive and maybe find a life of peace.

“I’m not leaving without my family,” I say.

Haymitch smirks. “ _Jumping straight into business then. No hello for your old mentor?”_

“Not when you’ve sat back and have done nothing for the last five years.”

Haymitch’s eyes darken. “ _Still got that sunny personality, sweetheart? I’m surprised the boy hasn’t rubbed off on you more.”_

I open my mouth with a scathing remark on my tongue, but Finnick speaks first.

“It was hard enough to get this meeting arranged. I’m not about to sit here and watch you two waste it arguing. I don’t have a lot of time tonight. I’ve got a client waiting on me.”

Haymitch harumphs, his lips snarling in distaste.

We all know it’s not with Finnick though. It’s with the Capitol.

So I speak first. “I’m not leaving without my family,” I repeat.

_“I know Finnick’s already mentioned this, but if you want Peeta to come, he’s coming as a prisoner of war.”_

“No,” I ground out.

At the same time, Peeta says, “Okay.”

I turn to look at him.

He doesn’t meet my gaze.

I reach for his hand, but he moves it off the table, out of my reach. “Peeta, no. There’s got to be some other way.”

He shakes his head and still doesn’t look at me. “Even if there is another way, it’s going to take too long. You know as well as I do that we don’t have much time. _I_ don’t have much time. We have to make hard decisions.”

My mouth dries. He’s right.

And it’s so unfair.

_“I’m talking with a doctor here. He thinks there’s a way to partially reverse the hijacking. As soon as you come in, I’ll get him working with you.”_

Partially. Does this mean there’s going to be a part of Peeta that will never be the same?

_“Once Coin’s in power, you’ll have a fair trial.”_

I scoff at the idea of a fair trial and I can see in Haymitch’s eyes he doesn’t believe it either. “And if they say he’s guilty?”

_“Which brings me to my next point actually. Best way to ensure that doesn’t happen is to go along with the idea they have of you two. That you’re unfit to be parents. Let them place Lucy Erryn with a different family. And the baby too, whenever it comes.”_

“No.” Peeta’s the one to protest this time.

Because the idea of having them taken away from us, from me…

I can’t do it. Especially since they’re taking Peeta away from me too.

_“We’ll get a good family for her and once the Capitol’s brought down-“_

“Oh, like you did for Branton?!” Peeta yells.

_“I did everything I could to make sure that kid is taken care of!”_

They continue arguing and Finnick joins in, telling them both to calm down and they’re going to wake up Lambrini if they keep yelling.

But I tune out their arguing. I think of the times Peeta was taken away for re-education. How both times I could barely take care of myself. How those times proved what a terrible mother I am. Without Peeta by my side, Lucy Erryn probably will be better off with someone else.

Are these the same thoughts Annie thought when she had to make this decision too?

The baby kicks and I press a hand to my stomach.

They’ll take this baby too. Place it with a family that they think is better suited.

One that doesn’t have a father on the brink of a mental breakdown because of being hijacked. Or a mother that doesn’t retreat into her mind when things get bad.

I was never suited to have kids. Peeta was, but the Capitol is chipping that away from him, little by little.

_War is full of making hard decisions._

I grab Peeta’s hand and he snaps his head to look at me.

There’s still blue in his eyes, but there’s too much black to be normal. I squeeze his hand, silently pleading for him to fight it.

It takes longer than I wish it did, but his eyes change back and his shoulders sag. “Katniss…”

I look back to Haymitch, still holding Peeta’s hand. “What about her tracker?”

_“Coin didn’t want to say, but Snow already knows where Thirteen’s hidden. It won’t make any difference if she has one or not. But once she gets here, I’ll make sure a doctor removes it.”_

“And you promise we’ll get them back once it’s all over?” Once me and Peeta are back together and I can work on becoming a better mother.

“Katniss-“

_“Yes. I’ll personally make sure of it.”_

I look at Peeta and repeat the words he said moments ago. “We have to make hard decisions.” I squeeze his hand. “And we’re going to get them back. It won’t be forever."

Peeta looks like he still wants to protest, but he silently nods.

I turn back to Haymitch. “And Delia-“

_“She’s coming too, there was no argument there. She’s an Avox, so she already has them on her side.”_

That’s it then. We really are getting out.

And now I have to be their Mockingjay.

_“I’ll let them know. Be ready. We still don’t know when we’re going in, but it’s going to be soon, promise.”_ Then he pauses for a moment, and adds, _“I’m proud of both of you. And I don’t care what they say. You’re both good parents.”_ His voice becomes gravely again. Then he sniffs, quickly shakes his head and ends the call.

Finnick pockets the communicator and stands. “It’s not going to be as long as you think,” he says. “Now that they’re got their Mockingjay, things are going to move a lot quicker and you’ll be able to be together again soon.”

Is he saying that to convince us or himself?

“Are we doing the right thing?” Peeta asks as we lay in bed, inches apart.

I move just enough so that my arm is brushing against his. “We’re doing what it takes to make sure we all survive this.”

He rolls to his side, his back towards me and away from my touch.

I tell Delia about the new plan the next day. I leave out the part that they’re going to separate us. She won’t agree to that and having her list out all the reason why it’s a terrible idea will break my resolve.

I repack our bags, removing items I know we won’t need anymore now that we’re going directly to Thirteen. I grab the locket Peeta gave me for our wedding is there, replacing the picture of Gale with a picture of me and Peeta.

For Lucy Erryn. In case Finnick’s wrong and it’s much longer before we see her again. A picture to remind her of her real parents, her real family.

I go ahead and give it to her, telling her it's a special gift from both of us. She opens it and stares at the pictures. "Who are they?" she asks, pointing to my mother and Prim.

"Our family."

She wears it all day and refuses to take it off at night.

“Something’s coming,” Peeta whispers to me four nights after our conversation with Haymitch. “I don’t know what but…I think the Capitol’s planning a retaliation.”

“When?” I ask, attempting to sit up quickly, but only managing to prop myself up on my elbows.

He shrugs. “I don’t know, but I keep on hearing whispers when I pass Peacekeepers and…Snow’s making a special announcement right after the Tribute interviews. No one knows what he’s going to say.”

Haymitch said it would be soon. I cling to his promise. We can make it a few more days.

After that, though…I’m not sure at all.

The last day before the Games start comes. And Peeta doesn’t come onscreen at all until it’s time to interview the Tributes. He’s sitting in his usual spot next to Caesar. His prosthetic is bouncing so fast, Caesar mentions it, teasing Peeta and asking if he’s all of a sudden become camera shy.

But I can almost see a warning in Caesar, smile tight and eyes narrowing. It makes me wonder if Peeta’s found out what Snow’s announcement is going to be.

Peeta laughs and it quickly becomes unhinged. I see Caesar tugging on his earlobe and the camera immediately pans out, sweeping over the audience gathered. A few seconds later, it focuses again on Caesar and Peeta. Beads of sweat have broken through the layer of powder on his upper lip and forehead. And his eyes…angry yet unfocused.

He won’t last another day of this.

I sit on the couch with Lucy Erryn and Lambrini on either side of me and Delia sitting next to Lambrini. I glance over at them and for the first time, I notice how much their noses look alike.

But then Peeta’s voice cuts through my thoughts and my focus is back on the screen. Voice tight and unsteady.

He has to hold it together. At least for one more night. And when he comes back tonight, I won’t let him go. Let them come for him. They’ll have to get through me first.

Tribute after Tribute comes on stage and both Peeta and Caesar ask them questions, attempting to pull out stories and smiles from them, allowing them to charm the Capitol citizens.

No one except us realizes this will be the last time Peeta ever does this.

And after they interview the male Tribute from Eleven, Peeta and Caesar stand, bowing to the crowd at their applause, but Peeta’s movements jerky and uncoordinated. Caesar even places a hand on his shoulder as if to steady him.

Once the crowd settles, the camera focuses in on Peeta and I lean forward as he begins to speak, feeling my heart pounding in my chest.

_“We have a special appearance by President Snow in just a few moments.”_ He pauses as the crowd claps and cheers. He smiles, all of his teeth showing. It looks as if he’s snarling. _“Before he comes, I have a few words I would like to say to those in the Districts, the rebels, those who think they can destroy our peace.”_

His words come out robotic, obviously reading off a teleprompter.

Then I see his pupils shrink impossibly small and then grow. _“How do you think this will end?”_ he asks and from the tone of his voice, I know he’s gone off script. _“No one is safe. Not in the Capitol. Not in the districts. And you…in Thirteen…”_ He inhales sharply and closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens, them, they’re almost completely black and his face contorts. _“Dead by morning!”_

The camera pans back as the audience stands and gasps.

But it’s not quick enough as several Peacekeepers rush onto the stage. Peeta’s still trying to speak and his words are jumbled through his microphone. And everyone can still hear him as he begins struggling against the Peacekeepers until he’s finally kicked to the floor and there’s a cry of pain.

One of the Peacekeepers raises a metal baton and brings it down hard on Peeta’s head. Blood splatters on the tile and he stops moving.

The livestream cuts to a red background and the seal of Panem.

I hear screaming, wondering if it’s coming from me.

Delia moves past me and grabs Lucy Erryn as she screams for her daddy. Lambrini is crying too, asking what’s going on.

I can’t move. Frozen. Numb. Peeta’s cry and his blood replaying over and over and over and ov-

“You know how to use this?”

Gale’s standing in front of me, holding out a gun.

I try and process the question, but I keep hearing Peeta’s cry and Lucy Erryn screaming and there’s a sharp and familiar pain in my abdomen.

Delia lets go of Lucy Erryn and grabs the gun from Gale.

He gives her a quick nod then look at me again. “Get the kids to the panic room. They’re coming.”

Peacekeepers. Rebels. It doesn’t matter who right now. There are two little girls crying, terrified and I have to hold it together. For them.

Even as I see the image of Peeta falling to the ground, the baton falling on his head, blood splattering, his body going still…

I start to get up, but the sharp pain comes back. I press my hand to my stomach and inhale sharply.

Not now. _Please_ , not now.

Delia looks at me, her eyes wide as they dart down, checking for blood where I’m sitting.

The front door swings open, the lock breaking and there’s a gunshot and yelling and the two girls are screaming and crying.

Between my legs, I feel something wet trickling down. And my eyes slide shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it's a horrible place to end the chapter, but just trust me and remember they're going to end up happy!


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, this is an emotional chapter. I definitely cried a bit while writing it, but then again I was feeling extra emotional anyways 🤷
> 
> I'm already outlining the last chapter and I'm really excited to get there and I'm so glad you lovelies have stuck around this long for it! When we get there, I really do hope it's everything you readers dreamed of ❤❤
> 
> Thank you always for your kind words and comments and kudos! They are so treasured! I'm really looking forward to your thoughts on this chapter...especially at the end of it 😬😅

They tell me it was the rebels that came into the penthouse. It wasn't when they were planning, but they had to. Because the Capitol bombed Thirteen. But thanks to Peeta’s warning, they were able to evacuate to their bomb shelters.

Peeta, the man they said they couldn’t trust. Who had become part of the Capitol agenda. Who they were going to pull out, only to hold him as a prisoner of war.

Who is now in stuck in the Capitol, undergoing uninterrupted sessions of the hijacking. He wasn’t taken when we were. They said it was too dangerous. That their plan had gone all wrong. That they would have to wait for another chance.

Haymitch was the one to tell me when I woke up.

And even though I was lying on a bed with an IV in my arm, I still reached up, scratching his face, screaming at him.

“You promised! You promised he would get out too! You’re a liar!”

He yelled back, but I don’t know what he said. Because a doctor came in, put something in the IV, and I felt a growing weight that pushed me back down onto the bed and my eyes closed.

When I opened them again, it was Finnick sitting next to me.

“You need to stay calm,” he says, even as his own voice trembled. “It was stress that made you go into preterm labor.”

My eyes immediately drift to my stomach. Still swollen, but…

“The baby’s fine. But you have to relax. For the baby's sake."

I almost laugh at the idea. With everything that’s happening, how can I possibly relax?

Finnick says they’re working on getting Peeta out. But they needed a distraction. His eyes are hollow as he tells me that they recorded a video of him. It would provide enough of a distraction.

I don’t find out until later what he said in the video. Revealing all of the Capitol secrets he knew of. What they made him and other Victors do. The sick depravity of those in power. The things Thread has done. What Snow has done.

No one could possibly look away from it.

I try and get up, asking where Lucy Erryn is. Did they leave her behind too? Did they bring her and place her with another family already?

“She’s here, she’s safe,” Finnick says. “She’s with Delia and Lambrini. They didn’t want to let her in yet so you can rest.”

I shake my head. “No. No, I have to see her. I have to make sure she’s all right.”

He says he’ll get her once she wakes up.

We’re not in Thirteen. Not yet at least. They’re still bombing it. So we’re stuck in the hovercraft, landing in an impossibly deep canyon. One that is deep enough to hide us and prevent Lucy Erryn’s tracker from sending our location. It’s been a day since they took us out of the Capitol and left Peeta behind. How long can we hide out here? How long will they bomb Thirteen?

How long can Peeta last?

I end up falling asleep again, dreaming of fire and Peeta’s cries and his blood everywhere, covering my hands and spilling from his mouth as he tries to say something, but ends up choking on even more blood.

I’m pulled out of the dream when I hear the door swish open and Lucy Erryn crying as she climbs up onto my bed. Finnick lingers in the doorway for a moment, then says, “The extraction team is headed there right now.”

My heart jumps into my throat. “When?” I manage to get out.

“Twelve hours.”

Twelve hours. Half a day before they bring Peeta.

Or whatever’s left of him.

I shut that thought out. They couldn’t have done too much damage in a day and a half.

Could they?

Lucy Erryn can’t manage to get a full sentence out, her words jumbling together and her hands making half attempts at signs.

There’s one thing I do manage to get.

_Where’s Daddy?_

I don’t answer her question, holding her tightly in my arms.

And as I hold her, I remember that I agreed to let her go. For some other family to watch her. There’s a part of my mind that tells me to let her go already. Don’t drag it out. Yes, we’re stuck in this hovercraft until the bombing stops, but why make this harder?

My arms tighten around her even more as I force those thoughts out.

Delia comes in the room, hours later, with Lambrini trailing behind her. Both of them safe and alive. There’s tears in Delia's eyes as she looks at me with Lucy Erryn, both of us awake, then she moves closer and hugs us both as best she can.

As happy as I am to see her and to know they pulled her out too, I wish it was Peeta hugging us.

Delia lets go and sits and signs that she’s supposed to be taking Lucy Erryn back to their room so that I can rest.

But she doesn’t get up or try to convince Lucy Erryn to come with her.

Lucy Erryn stays curled up into my side. I idly begin braiding her hair while she fiddles with the locket, opening and closing it. My eyes linger on the picture of me and Peeta.

Smiling with our plastic smiles for the Capitol. But I remember when we took that picture. Peeta held my hand, his thumb running over my wedding ring.

My own thumb repeats that same action. Over and over and over the smooth pearl.

He’s still alive. I know he is.

I refuse to believe anything else.

It’s hard to stay in the bed. Twelve hours is a long time waiting and doing nothing. A doctor comes in to check in on me. Lucy Erryn falls asleep. Delia gets up and begins pacing. Finnick comes in, bringing a pencil and paper to keep Lambrini entertained. He sits for a while, tying and untying a rope in his hands.

And I can do nothing but lie there and wait and imagine all the damage they’ve done to Peeta since the Tribute interviews.

Thirteen hours later, Haymitch comes in. My nails went deep enough to leave red, swollen marks on his cheek. I stare at the marks as Haymitch says, “They’re back.”

All the air leaves my lungs and I’m struggling to stand. Lucy Erryn wakes up, confused and asking what’s going on. Delia tries to get me to lay back down while Haymitch brings in a wheelchair for me.

Even though his help is the last thing I want, Haymitch eases me into the wheelchair. Lucy Erryn climbs into my lap, still not knowing exactly what’s going on, except that I’m going somewhere and she doesn’t want to leave my side.

“Remember, no matter what happens, you have to stay calm,” he says as he begins pushing the wheelchair out of the room, leaving Delia behind to watch Lambrini.

He moves too slow and the hovercraft feels huge and I want to get up and run to Peeta, to make sure he’s alive, that he’s good, and never let him go.

We finally get to the room where they have him. Another man is explaining that they had to gas the place where they were holding Peeta and he’s just barely waking up from it.

Waking up. That means he’s alive.

And I stand up, ignoring Haymitch’s half-hearted protests. I hold Lucy Erryn’s hand as we go in the room, just the two of us.

Peeta’s the only other person in the room, his back turned towards us, shoulders hunched and body slightly trembling.

Lucy Erryn doesn’t notice though. She let’s go of my hand and runs to him. “Daddy!”

I hold my breath and wait for the worst. Because they were hijacking him. Did they finish the job?

Instead, his head snaps towards her and he’s off the bed, crouching to the ground in time for her to throw herself into his arms. He rocks back a little from the force, but he holds her tight with shaking arms. I can hear her sobbing and her jumbled words.

It’s so hard to control the budding hope when I see him holding our daughter like this.

I take a step forward, his name falling from my lips. “Peeta.”

But as soon as I speak, his body stiffens.

And I know something is very, very wrong.

He pulls back from Lucy Erryn and looks up at me. His face pales and he stands.

I take a few steps forward and he steps back, pushing Lucy Erryn behind him.

His eyes are black.

I search them for recognition. He knows me. He knows exactly who he’s looking at right now. And I see wild terror. “Peeta?”

“Don’t come any closer,” he says.

His first words to me are not _I love you_.

“Peeta, wha-“

He backs up even more, keeping Lucy Erryn right behind him. “Stay away from us!” he yells.

The world is crumbling around me. The thing Peeta was worried about before we ever went into the arena happened. They’ve changed him into something unrecognizable.

Lucy Erryn doesn’t have her processors on, but she knows something’s wrong with Peeta too. “Daddy?” she asks as she tugs at his shirt.

He squeezes his eyes shut and his hands fly up to his hair, tugging so harshly, his knuckles turn white. He’s mumbling something over and over.

“Not real, not real, notrealnotrealnotrealnotreal…”

I can only stand there, frozen, and watch as his mind has fallen to pieces.

It feels like forever before a few nurses come in and they grab Peeta.

He struggles against them and they must have forgotten Lucy Erryn is right there. Because in the chaos of everything, she somehow falls to the floor, hitting her head as she does.

It’s her cries that propels me forward. I scoop her into my arms, checking her head and making sure there isn’t any huge bumps or even a cut.

Nothing. She's fine.

Except she really isn't, is she?

She wraps her arms around me and continues sobbing.

Her cries break through to Peeta too. Because he stops struggling and he looks at us. At me. “Katniss?”

His eyes are blue with clarity. And I want to go to him and hold him and make him promise that he’ll never leave me and tell him how much I love him and to have him repeat those words too.

But then a nurse injects something into his arm and his pupils shrink impossibly small, then blow up until I can’t see any blue.

His eyes close and I watch as the nurses ease him back onto the bed and begin hooking him up to several machines.

I turn and walk out of the room. Haymitch is still waiting by the door.

“What the hell happened?” Haymitch asks.

I move past him, holding Lucy Erryn and I should be in a wheelchair right now, but I don’t want to see anyone or deal with their comforting words or kind thoughts.

I just want to be alone and hold Lucy Erryn and let her know how much her parents love her.

Haymitch doesn't follow me.

I’ve always been good at finding hiding spots. In the woods of Twelve. In the arena. And here on the hovercraft, I’ve passed by several places that I’m sure no one would find me in.

But I’m also seven, nearly eight, months pregnant and Lucy Erryn is with me.

I end up hiding away in a storage closet.

Lucy Erryn doesn’t say anything. She keeps crying until those cries turn into hiccups and then finally deep, steady breaths with only the occasional shudder.

This is why I never wanted children. Because I wanted to spare them the hurt and trauma of growing up in a world like this one.

Lucy Erryn isn’t even five yet. How much trauma is she carrying now? What about this baby I’m carrying? What kind of world will be left for them?

I'm not even thinking of what Branton's gone through either.

That old, familiar numbness begins creeping into me. Wrapping itself around me with the promise that things will be easier if I just let it in. Become numb.

Lucy Erryn twitches in my arms, taking several shuddering breaths, before stilling again.

No. I can’t do that. I can’t escape into the numbness.

I let the next thing I feel consume me.

Anger.

At the Capitol. The rebels. Snow. Thread. Coin. Everyone who had a part in making sure we could never have a peaceful life.

The anger boils in me. Even as Finnick comes for me hours later. He doesn’t have me sit in a wheelchair, but he takes Lucy Erryn from me as she still sleeps and helps me stand. He leads me back to the room and is about to leave with Lucy Erryn, but I insist she stay with me. So, he lays her down onto the bed and her body curls into mine.

Before leaving, Finnick gives me what’s supposed to be an encouraging smile, but it looks more like a grimace.

Because Haymitch is in the room too and it looks like he wants to talk.

He’s the last person I want to talk to, but he doesn’t pick up on this. Instead, he starts telling me new information about Peeta.

They did a brain scan on Peeta and a few blood tests. Something went wrong in the hijacking process.

“They finished it. But…” Haymitch shakes his head. “He held on harder than anyone could’ve thought.”

The thought doesn’t comfort me. He shouldn’t have had to hold on like that. He never should’ve undergone the hijacking. He should’ve been pulled out with me. Or even taken instead of me.

Part of me doesn’t believe it either. Hearing him yell, the way he fought against those nurses, shielding Lucy Erryn from me.

Then I remember that moment of clarity he seemed to have. His blue eyes looking at me with fear. Not of me, but of what’s been done. And of the things that still need to be done and what our role in them will be.

“When can I start?” I ask once Haymitch seems to have finished talking.

Haymitch blinks, then asks, “Start what?”

“Being the Mockingjay.”

The sooner I do it, the sooner it will be over and I can be with my children and figure out a way to pull Peeta out of this.

If he fought hard against the hijacking, then I’m going to fight hard for him too.

Haymitch tells me things are going to have to wait until after the delivery. “We might be able to get you out to Twelve in a week and film some propos there.”

Instead of feeling any kind of excitement or anticipation at the idea of going to Twelve, to what was once my home, I just feel dread. What am I going to find there? How bad was the destruction?

It’s ironic, the place I longed to go back to all those years being stuck in the Capitol, I now dread to see. It’s not home anymore.

When I think of the word home, I see Peeta’s blue eyes, crinkling as he smiles, Lucy Erryn giggling as she squirms her way in between me and Peeta on the bed. A newborn in my arms with blonde curls and Lucy Erryn playing in a field with a little boy, Branton. Peeta beside me, fingers running over my wedding ring and whispering how much he loves me.

I spin my wedding ring around and around as Haymitch gets up and says he’ll leave me to rest.

I must drift off to sleep because when I open my eyes again, Delia is sitting in one of the chairs with Lucy Erryn on her lap and Lambrini next to them. She's teaching them both new words.

Peeta would be there too, doing his best to copy Delia’s movements and repeating them until he had it perfect.

I feel my body shifting a little sideways, and I inhale sharply. The sound catches their attention and Delia lets me know the hovercraft has started moving.

The bombing on Thirteen has stopped. We’re headed there now.

I nod and look at Lucy Erryn. Will they take her from me as soon as we land? Will I get a chance to say goodbye and remind her how much Peeta and I love her?

The flight to Thirteen is faster than I thought. But then again, you can never place a time limit on the final hours you might have with your child.

Except this isn’t the last time I’ll see her. I’ll do my duty, help get Coin into power, and then get Lucy Erryn and Branton and Peeta back.

We’ll be a family. And we’ll find a new place that we can call home.

Thirteen is nothing like I expected. It’s not a compound hidden away in the mountains or the forests. It’s underground. Basically a nuclear bomb shelter.

Finnick takes Lambrini with him to whatever family she's going to be placed with. He doesn't take Lucy Erryn though and she settles on my lap. Delia pushes me in the wheelchair down the docking ramp. But once we reach the bottom, I see my mother and Prim standing there. No one protests as I get up from the wheelchair and hug them both, the three of us crying and holding one another tight. I realize there was still a part of me that hadn’t believed they were alive.

Now I know for certain, their tears mingling with my own and Prim kissing my cheek and my mother placing a hand on my stomach.

As I hug them and reassure myself that they are really here and alive, I can’t help wishing Peeta was standing next to me, sharing this joy with me.

When I finally pull back, it’s to pick up Lucy Erryn. “Lucy Erryn, this is your grandma and Aunt Prim.” I speak the words and sign them as well so everyone could understand.

Lucy Erryn, normally such a social child, shies away from them, burying her face in my shoulder. But she does peek one eye out and give a small wave.

“You shouldn’t be on your feet,” Prim says as she gently pushes me back into the wheelchair. As she does, I notice a small gold band on her left ring finger.

She’s married? She’s only…

A year younger than I was when I married Peeta.

She’s not the little girl I left behind. She’s a young woman.

Our mother separates from us to talk with Haymitch. Prim doesn’t wait for her, motioning for Delia to come too as she starts pushing me down the hall, further into Thirteen’s fortress.

Lucy Erryn sits in my lap, looking around at everything with wide and curious eyes. There’s no one in the hallways that we go through. I'm glad. I don’t want the attention of other people, seeing their Mockingjay finally here to be the face of their rebellion.

We get to a small compartment with two single beds, a bunk bed, and small wardrobe. “You three will be staying here with me and Rory,” Prim says.

I notice a small blush on her cheeks as she looks around the room. Rory Hawthorne? Is that who she married?

Her words run through my mind again though. She said ‘three’. Me, Delia, and Lucy Erryn.

They aren’t taking Lucy Erryn from me?

Prim finally looks at me, wringing her hands a little as she sits on a bed across from me. “Haymitch had a feeling they would take Lucy Erryn when they finally brought you in after what they did with Branton and…he’s been planning this since they brought Branton. Rory and I got married a few months ago and Haymitch worked it out so that we would be the ones to take in Lucy Erryn.”

I want to cry again and my arms wrap a little tighter around Lucy Erryn.

Peeta would be so happy to know Lucy Erryn is still staying with me.

“And Branton?” I ask around a lump in my throat. I’m afraid to expand on my question. Afraid of the answer I might get.

Prim smiles a little. “He should be here any minute.”

I don't ask how it's possible. It’s too good to be true.

I imagine Peeta’s bright smile at the news, how he would hold my hand and kiss me and say just how happy he is that our family is finally all together.

Where is he right now? A hospital room? A cell? A combination of both?

Prim gives a quick and unnecessary tour of the compartment. Delia and Lucy Erryn get the bunk beds and me the other single bed. We each get our own drawer in the wardrobe with a set of the gray uniforms that everyone in Thirteen wears.

Until finally, there’s three knocks on the door.

I feel my body trembling with anticipation as Prim opens the door, lets the person in, and quickly shuts it behind him.

I hardly take in the man standing in front of me, focusing only the small child asleep in his arms.

It’s Branton. Mine and Peeta’s son.

I get up, slipping Lucy Erryn off my lap and take a few steps towards him. Without a word, the man eases Branton from his arms into mine.

A cross between a sob and a laugh escapes my lips as I hold our sleeping son. So unmistakably ours. Mouth open slightly as he sleeps, dark curls sticking up everywhere, and his nose that looks like my father’s, like mine.

My knees almost give out and Prim eases me down onto one of the beds.

Peeta should be here. Smiling and crying and whispering how perfect Branton is.

It takes everything in me to look away from him and to the man that brought me Branton. My words of gratitude for him bringing me Branton get stuck in my throat though as I really look at him.

Half of his face scarred by burns, with one eye glassy white, but the other one the brightest blue.

A blue I’ve only ever seen in Peeta’s and Lucy Erryn’s eyes.

My heart stutters as I make a realization.

It’s Rye Mellark.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking I'm going to have to change my update day to Saturday's instead, but I'm always going to try and make sure you get one once a week for sure!
> 
> More answers in this chapter, but it's definitely more of a filler chapter too. Regardless, I hope you enjoy this update and let me know what you think!

I feel my vision dimming as my eyes focus on Rye. He’s alive. Finnick said Peeta’s family didn’t make it out though. But one of his brothers is standing in front of me. Alive.

“You’re alive?” I say after what feels like hours of staring at him.

He tucks his hands into his pockets and shrugs with a sheepish smile. Exactly like Peeta’s.

When he gives Lucy Erryn cookies before dinner. When he lets her stay up for an extra half hour past her bedtime. When he eats the last cheesebun and promises he’ll make more.

I have to look away, but I don’t know where. Because everywhere I look, I’m reminded of him. I settle on staring down at the gray fabric of the uniform Branton’s wearing, where I can see his chest rising and falling with his breaths.

“Technically, I am dead. On paper at least,” Rye says. “I go by Byran Carsen here.”

He sits opposite of me, next to Prim and begins explaining what happened.

He was in the basement of the bakery when the bombs fell. "After Peeta's announcement of you being pregnant, I, um...I was checking to make sure he hadn't taken my stash of condoms I have down there. I paid good money for those at the Hob." With a fond smile, he adds. "Never thought little Peeta bread had it in him. Especially with you still living with your mom at the time."

I don't tell him that he didn't. That Lucy Erryn was created at the hands of the Capitol.

I had almost forgotten about that fact.

Next thing Rye knew, he woke up in a hospital room weeks later. He was one of the handful of survivors that they found in the rubble. He could hardly speak because of the burns and his face was wrapped in bandages that they had no idea who he was.

“By the time I could finally tell them my name, I didn’t. Because I’m a coward” Rye looks down at his hands. “Peeta was already in front of Capitol cameras and the dislike towards him was already growing here. I didn’t want to be known as his brother, so I came up with a different name, a different family, a different background. Only Haymitch, Prim, and my wife know who I really am.” He grimaces a little. “My wife actually found out after we got Branton so…it’s kind of a sore spot there still.”

When they were pulling Branton out, Haymitch was one of the first to know. So he made sure Rye and his wife were the ones to get him. It wasn’t hard, considering his wife is a native to Thirteen and one of the many women who can’t have children naturally.

“We love him like he’s really our son,” Rye says, looking at Branton. My arms wrap a little tighter around the child I just met. I think he notices though because he looks up and finally catches my eye. “Which is why, when this is all over, we want to see him go back with his real family.”

With me and Peeta and Lucy Erryn and the baby that’s still growing inside of me.

“How is he?” Rye asks after a beat of silence.

I look down at Branton. Peeta was right. He looks more like me, except in his smile. His smile that is definitely a Mellark trait.

“He’s alive,” I say softly. And I don’t expand on the statement.

I ignore the glance exchanged between Prim and Rye. It’s hard to take my eyes away from Branton as he continues sleeping in my arms. I’m not ready to let him go, but I know I have to. Because Rye said ‘when this is all over.’

I still have to be the Mockingjay first.

A dip in the bed catches my attention and I look away to see Lucy Erryn is sitting next to me, looking intently at Branton.

Branton twitches in his sleep, brining a hand up to rub at his eyes, then falling still again. I smile at him, then turn to Lucy Erryn with a smile still on my face.

But I notice she’s frowning now as she stares at him. Then she moves closer and tries to grab one of my arms. “Hold me, Mommy.”

“Lucy Erryn, I…” My words trail off because she still doesn’t have her processors on and with my hands full, I can’t use my hands.

Delia gets up and tries to convince Lucy Erryn to check out her new bed, but Lucy Erryn persists and manages to loop her arm around mine.

These last few days have been stressful for all of us, including Lucy Erryn. She doesn’t understand everything, but she’s seen more than any child her age should. It doesn’t help that I know she hasn’t been sleeping right and the way she was taken away from everything she's ever known was traumatic.

Knowing this doesn’t stop the frustration from bubbling in me though.

Then something chimes and Rye looks down at his wrist. “Ah, I need to get going. Clary doesn’t actually know I brought Branton here. I need to get back before she wakes up.”

And as Rye stands, my arms tightening around him again. Lucy Erryn notices the action and tries harder to squirm her way into my arms.

I don’t know when the next time I’ll be able to hold Branton again and I don’t want to end the moment like this.

But that’s exactly how it ends. With Lucy Erryn struggling to grab all my attention and Rye taking Branton from me before I’m ready.

As soon as Branton’s out of my arms, Lucy Erryn climbs into my lap and practically glares at Branton. My arms automatically wrap around her, but I with I was still holding Branton. How do I explain this to her? That this is her brother? The one we lost. The one we thought we’d never see again.

I can’t tell her though. Because she won’t refrain from telling others and I don’t want to know what kind of trouble that might get Rye in. Or anyone involved in this for that matter.

Even if that includes Haymitch.

Rye promises he’ll try and find more time to come around so that I can spend more time with Branton. Especially when he’s awake.

I tell myself not to cling too much to that promise. I don’t know how much time I'll have anyways. I have only a few more weeks left in this pregnancy and then there’s the duties I have with being the Mockingjay.

I bury my growing frustration towards Lucy Erryn. She doesn’t understand and she’s tired. So I don’t let go of her as I move into a lying position, brushing back her hair and reassuring her with my touch that I’m right here.

For a day, we’re left in peace. Prim offers to give us a small tour of Thirteen and only Delia takes up her offer. My mother comes by and stays for a few hours. She doesn’t try to get me to talk and I end up resting my head in her lap while she runs her fingers through my hair. She does try her best to talk with Lucy Erryn and I explain some of the signs for her. Lucy Erryn even tries teaching her, fascinated by the fact that she has a grandmother.

Lucy Erryn asks if she knows Grandpa Snow.

She asks with her hands and my mother can’t interpret the words. I give a small shake of my head and wonder how long it will take for Lucy Erryn to stop thinking about him.

When Prim comes back with Delia, Rory’s with her. And he rubs his hands on his pants and nods at me, saying how glad he is I’m back.

I notice him taking a step away from Prim and she gives him a bemused smile as she moves closer to him and places a hand on his arm.

He lets out a breath and smiles at her.

They look at each other the way Peeta and I do.

Did.

I don’t know if Peeta will ever look at me that way again.

I make myself think of something else. Thinking of what of a comfort it is to see that Prim and Rory really do love each other. They weren’t forced into this marriage. And maybe they sped it up only so that they could be the ones placed with Lucy Erryn, but they do love each other.

I don’t sleep that night. I can’t. Lucy Erryn sleeps with me, her chest rising and falling with her steady breaths. I’m left alone with my thoughts.

No one has told me anything about Peeta. If he’s okay. If he’s in a cell or a hospital room or combination of both, created just for him.

Do they even care about what he risked when he warned them of the bombing? What he lost because of that?

Is that standing up to the Capitol enough for them? Or does he need to die for their cause to see him as the good man he really is?

I bury my face in my pillow. I am not going to let that happen. Peeta will _not_ die for any cause. Rebel or Capitol.

The rest that they believe we need is over the next day. Delia leaves with Prim and Rory in the morning for her new job, working in the laundry department. As they leave, Haymitch shows up. As he stands in the doorway, I'm not sure whether to ignore him for the things he didn't or hug him for the things he has done. Especially in making sure my children are taken care of.  
  
Before I can decide, he begins speaking. They’re ready to operate on Lucy Erryn and remove the tracker. He also says Beetee is going to give her new processors. Ones that will work better than what the Capitol gave her.

“Is that the only thing they’re going to do?” I ask. Or do they plan on putting in another tracker. Or something else to make sure I stay compliant.

Haymitch nods. “Your mother is going to be in the operating room too. They won’t try and do anything else while she’s there.”

He doesn’t actually say that they would never do something like that regardless of who’s in the operating room.

I want to stay for the surgery and make sure Lucy Erryn’s all right, but Haymitch shakes his head.

They have me scheduled to go into Twelve to start shooting the first propos. This will be the first and only propo done while I’m pregnant. Everything else, will be done after I’ve delivered.

I haven’t even thought about the delivery process. What if there's complications? Are they going to place the baby with Prim and Rory? Will they let me hold it as soon as it’s born? Will Peeta be lucid enough to stand by my side?

All of those thoughts lead me to ask Haymitch my next question. “What about Peeta?”

Haymitch purses his lips and looks down. “They got him sedated. When he wakes up, he’s still going to be on a lot of morphling, just to make sure his heart rate stays low.”

“When can I see him?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now,” Haymitch says with a slight grimace.

My chest starts to hurt. I don’t know how long I can go without seeing him. Without knowing he’s okay.

What if it’s because he doesn’t want to see me?

I can still recall how black his eyes were and the terror in them as he looked at me.

But they changed to blue at the end and he said my name.

“Please. I have to see him.” I have to know he’s okay and not locked away like an animal.

Haymitch lets out heavy breath. “Okay. Once we get the kid situated, I’ll show you where he is.”

"There's no meeting with Coin yet?"

Haymitch shakes his head. "She wants to get this propo of you first, then she'll meet with you."  
  
Is it because she wants to see if it was worth all the trouble of getting me out?

I motion for Lucy Erryn to get up and we start following Haymitch. She asks if we’re going to see Daddy. I don’t answer her, holding her hand as we continue walking down the halls.

We get to the hospital wing and my mother and a surgeon are in the room. I explain to Lucy Erryn what’s going to happen and reassure her the entire time that she’s going to be fine.

An hour later, I’m watching from a window as they sedate Lucy Erryn to begin the surgery. My mother is in the room and she gives me a small nod. Lucy Erryn will be fine. She’ll make sure of it.

I turn away as the doctor pulls out a scalpel. “Take me to Peeta,” I tell Haymitch.

He doesn’t look happy with my request, but he doesn’t argue. We walk out of the operating room and down another hallway into a different room.

This room is about the same size as the operating room, with the room spilt in two by a large window. There are doctors and nurses scattered in the room, looking at computers, writing things down on their clipboards.

But my attention is drawn to Peeta, lying on a bed on the other side of the window.

I stand directly in front of it, placing a hand on the cool surface as I stare at my husband. Strapped to the bed, an IV in his arm and several different monitors around him. I watch his chest rising and falling.

His breathing isn’t the slow, steady rhythm it is when he sleeps. After all that time sharing a bed with him, I know when he's sleeping, awake, or even having a nightmare. Right now, looking at how his chest rises and falls, it's as if he's having a nightmare. I look at the heart monitor. I don’t understand what the numbers or the beeping of it means.

“We have him on the highest, but safest, dosage of morphling right now. His heart rate is still elevated thought."

I glance to my left and see that one of the doctors is standing next to me.

“Dr. Aurelius. I’m the doctor overseeing your husband’s care.”

I look back to Peeta. My thumb starts tracing over my wedding ring. “Is he going to be okay?”

“There’s still tracker jacker venom in his blood. It’ll only be a few more hours before we finally get it all cleared out. That should help with lowering his heart rate, but…” Dr. Aurelius turns to look at me. “I’ll be honest with you, it’s a miracle he’s alive right now. From what I’ve gathered, they sped up the hijacking process after his last appearance on television. It seemed like their plan was to continuing doing it gradually. For the rest of the hijacking process to be sped up like it was, it’s likely they didn’t care whether he lived or died.”

Dr. Aurelius doesn’t hold back with his words or explanations. He doesn’t try to protect me from the damage or hide anything.

I’m grateful, even if it’s painful to hear.

“Knowing the Capitol, Snow and Thread specifically, they believed whichever outcome would destroy you.”

Tears sting my eyes. “They were wrong.”

Dr. Aurelius smiles. And I think it’s a rare expression on his face, regardless of the situation. “About the both of you it would seem. Love is an incredible force, isn’t it, Mrs. Mellark?”

And I know deep inside of me that I can trust this man.

I look at Peeta one last time. A mantra begins running through my head.

_I will get him back. I will fight for him._

I leave with Haymitch and he’s leading me to the hovercraft that will take me to Twelve. But he says there’s one more stop we have to make. I have to look the part of the Mockingjay and they’ve got someone to do my makeup.

“I’ve been doing my own makeup for years now. I can handle it.”

Haymitch shrugs. “They’re going to broadcast your face to all of Panem. Gotta make sure the Mockingjay leaves an impression.”

I roll my eyes, but I still follow Haymitch. We walk down more corridors and more people have come out and they see me and I hear their marveled whispers as I pass by them.

“Is it really her?"

“We’re finally going to win.”

“The war is almost over.”

“She'll be the one to lead us to victory.”

Haymitch taps a keycard against a door and it slides open. The first thing I see in there is the Mockingjay suit. My newest identity.

The second thing I see is…”Effie?”

She turns around, clicks her tongue and tears build in her eyes. Then she opens her arms and I move as fast as I can into her embrace.

It’s different than when I hugged my mother and Prim. She knew me before Twelve was bombed. Saw my relationship with Peeta grow, not just what was shown on TV. She knows about the love we both have for each other now. Or at least the love from a week ago. She was the one who understood the world we had to have our masks on for and she knew who we were underneath those masks too.  
  
She's become part of my family.

“They changed him,” I whisper into her shoulder. “They took him away from me.”

Effie rubs my back, not filling the air with any kind of encouragement. She just holds me and lets me cry.

When I finally feel like I don’t have any more tears left, she pulls back and places her hands on my arms. “Now, why don’t we work on getting him back, yes?"

I nod, wiping my eyes and turning my attention back to the Mockingjay outfit.

Haymitch clears his throat and I had almost forgotten he was there. “You two need anything?”

I notice Effie tilting her chin up and not looking at him. “If we do, I’ll be sure and let someone else know.”

I turn to see Haymitch scowling slightly, then turn around and leave just as he began grumbling something under his breath.

Effie explains to me that this was Cinna’s last design. Just for me. She confirms what I’ve always known in my heart. That he’s dead. Since the very beginning of this nightmare when Effie told us about the bombing of Twelve.

I’m not putting the suit on today though. It wouldn’t even fit with my stomach. Instead, Effie is doing my makeup light, a natural look to go with the gray uniform that’s standard for everyone in Thirteen. Even Effie has one on.

She isn’t putting on a lot of makeup, but she takes her time. She talks to me, telling me of what happened the night of the interviews. The mandatory curfews and dozens of Peacekeepers patrolling the streets. She tried calling us, but the lines had been cut. And when she left her apartment to check on us, Peacekeepers were right outside her building and ushering her back inside. They told her it wasn’t safe for her to be outside, even though she saw so many other normal citizens out on the streets, still trying to carry on with life as normal.

No, it was an unofficial house arrest they placed her under. All because of her relationship with me and Peeta. No one told her anything and after a day, when she was trying to figure out how to make her own escape, a broadcast of Finnick came on screen. Effie had to sit down as she listened to all the horrors that happened under her nose.

And knowing she had turned a blind eye to so many, only doing what she could to stop it from happening to me and Peeta.

Then halfway through, rebels broke into her place and took her. She honestly thought she was being taken by Peacekeepers in black uniforms and refused to believe she was safe until she saw Haymitch.

“I wanted to slap him and punch him and just hit him so hard for making me believe he was dead, but then I saw those marks on his face and I figured you had already taken care of that for me,” she says with a wry smile.

She was taken to a second hovercraft that was hiding in the same area as ours. She wasn’t the only one pulled out. They took all the tributes and the majority of the Victors.

I’m sure the Victors that were left behind were Careers.

Effie finishes her story at the same time she finishes my makeup. She admires her work for a moment before reaching out for my hand and squeezing it. “I am so proud of you.”

For what? I have done nothing. Peeta’s the one who’s done things to be proud of.

And look at how they’re treating him.

She gives me another hug before I leave. “Everything’s going to be okay,” she says as she softly rubs my stomach.

In this moment, I can’t imagine how.

Haymitch takes me to the hovercraft finally. Cressida is there, along with the same crew that helped her film my wedding and a day with the Mellark’s.

Gale is there too. When he sees me, he gives a slight nod before turning and boarding the hovercraft.

Cressida watches him walk away with a look that’s a cross between sympathy and frustration. But when she turns to look at me, there’s a grim smile on her face. “Ready to see Twelve?”

The plan is to film the destruction and a few shots of Gale explaining what happened the night the bombs fell. That will be done in the first half, giving me time to explore on my own. Then the second half of the trip is dedicated to getting shots of me.

We'll be back in Thirteen by the time Lucy Erryn wakes up from her surgery.

We land in Twelve faster than I thought and I'm the first one out.

My breath hitches as I see the destruction. Even though it’s been five years, and nature has taken over, I can already imagine it. The fire, smoke and ashes. Screams from everyone as they tried to make it out.

The baby tumbles inside of me and I force myself to take a deep breath. I have to relax. I have to stay calm.

I don't wait for the others. They said the first half of the trip I could explore on my own. So that's what I'm doing.

Even with everything destroyed and nature crawling in and claiming the land again, I still know where I’m going.

To the Victor’s Village.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter my dears! I'm so happy you're all enjoying this story so much! Another bit of an emotional chapter, but I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think ❤❤❤
> 
> Also, for anyone interested, I actually created a spotify playlist of songs that have inspired me for this story, not just with Everlark, but with their kids too. There's still some songs that I'm wanting to add, but the ones up have definitely inspired me a lot while writing this story. And maybe there's some spoilers in the songs if you really listen to the lyrics...lol.  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4qVze2D3AcRdCIHCVbFfNc?si=H-Dk-Zu-RyKUakTgsZZc_w

The Victor’s Village is the only place that’s still intact. At least, in regards to the bombing. Even here, vines and weeds have come in and I can see traces of animals that have claimed this as their own.

I take a few steps forward, then stop. Because I was heading towards Peeta’s house first. Is it okay? Would he see it as an invasion of privacy?

Then I think of Lucy Erryn. She’s only going to continue to ask for Peeta and I don’t know when she’ll be able to see him.

I make the decision to go ahead and go into his house. If only to find something of his to give to Lucy Erryn. Something she can hold on to until she can see him again.

Dust and ashes fill the house. I walk into the kitchen and see a notebook open. It’s his recipe for cheesebuns. At the very top of the page, he wrote several exclamation points. I flip through the collection of recipes. The cheesebuns are the only one that has exclamation points. And anything that has cinnamon in it, is marked off with an ‘x’.

I take it with me as I continue exploring his house. It’s the same layout as mine and even after five years, I remember where to go in these houses. Which is why I’m not surprised when I find myself in his bedroom.

Bed neatly made and decorations sparse. There’s a cup on the nightstand with a white ring around the inside, the water having evaporated a long time ago.

I open his closet, hesitate a moment, then bury my face in his clothes and breathe deeply, trying to catch his smell of flour, sugar, and paint.

Nothing. His clothes only smell musty, shut in.

I grab one of his softest sweaters, a dark green one that I remember he wore often. I was going to walk out of the room, wanting to cover as much ground as possible before it’s my turn to start filming.

But I end up sitting on his bed, pressing the sweater to my nose and trying still to catch a whiff of his scent.

Nothing.

And the tears begin flowing and the baby is rolling and kicking and tumbling inside.

I can’t do this without him.

I can’t linger too long either.

_I will get him back. I will fight for him_.

That’s the only thing that makes me get up and start moving again.

With his recipe book and sweater in hand, I cross the twenty-five yards to my house.

Everything remained untouched, covered in dust and ash. I grab a photo of my parents on their wedding day and the family book of medicinal and edible plants. I go upstairs to my room. Inside the closet hangs my father’s hunting jacket. All of these items, along with what I grabbed from Peeta’s house, I stuff in my old game bag that was still in the same place that I left it, slung over one of the chairs in the dining room.

As I’m about to leave, something catches my eye.

A white rose on the shelf in the living room.

It has long since dried out, but it's not something that I ever brought inside this house. _Never_ a white rose.

There’s only one person I know who could’ve done that.

And the thought makes me sick and I actually gag. But I take several deep breaths and move until I’m standing in front of the bookshelf. I grab the dried rose and crumple it in my fist.

I am done playing his games. I will do what I need to as the Mockingjay and after that I am done.

With the Capitol and the rebels.

I wander for a while more until I get a notification from the communicuff I was given. Cressida’s ready for me.

I meet them back in what used to be the Hob. Cressida does a quick touch-up of my makeup. I forgot I had any on when I was crying earlier. But no one in the group mentions if the smudges are obvious.

Cressida takes a few shots of me walking through the rubble, standing in front of what used to be the schoolhouse, the Hob, the Seam. Messalla, one of her crewmen from the Capitol, even lights up a small smoke bomb to add a more dramatic effect. Sometimes Cressida will ask me for a memory, something personal to connect me with the audience. And even though I feel like I might drown in the memories, I still share them.

At one point, Cressida gives me specific lines she wants me to say.

“People of Panem, we fight, we dare, we end our hunger for justice!”

I know it’s bad. I was never the one good in front of the camera. That was always Peeta. Smiling and making friends right away with everyone he talked to.

She asks for a second take. And a third. And by the seventh, it’s hard for them to hide their frustration.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes as I try and deliver the lines perfectly. When I open my eyes again to let Cressida know I’m ready, I see Peeta standing right next to her.

He smiles at me. _“You’re a mother, Katniss. You only want to see our children living in peace. Say it like that.”_

“Katniss, are you ready?”

I blink and he’s gone. He was never there. He’s in Thirteen, probably still sedated. I take a deep breath and nod.

And I deliver the lines like the vision of Peeta said.

“People of Panem, we dare to hope. We will end our hunger for justice. We will see our children growing up in a time of peace. Our children will not pay for our sins.”

The baby kicks and my hand moves to cover the exact spot.

Cressida lowers her camera. “Katniss, that was…perfect. It really was, but those aren't the exact lines.”

We try a few more takes with the lines exactly as they’re supposed to be. But everyone knows those takes are terrible.

Cressida seems to give up getting a perfect shot and we’re finally done. Before getting on the hovercraft though, we take a lunch break. We go to the lake and for a few moments, I stare at the still water.

Nothing about it has changed. I remember my father teaching me how to swing out here. The breaks I would take out here while I was hunting.

Looking at it, it’s hard to imagine that there’s a war going on.

I focus on the forest past the lake. I’ve never been able to venture too far into them, always staying close enough to make it back before curfew.

_“There’s an ocean beyond that forest. And another country at the end of the ocean.”_

I look and sitting next to me is Peeta again. He’s staring at the forest too. Then he turns to look at me with a smile. _“What if we go there?”_

I purse my lips and look away, trying to banish the vision of him.

I sit at the edge of the group. I don’t feel like talking. We eat our cheese sandwiches with quiet chatter amongst our small group.

Pollux, who’s sitting closest to me, points out a mockingjay. He whistles a tune and he grins as the mockingjay repeats the same song. Soon, he and the bird are having their own conversation.

Then he turns to me and asks me to sing.

Peeta’s apparition shows up again, right next to Pollux. He tilts his head and says, _“I don’t think you’ve sang since Rue.”_

And I realize it’s true. I haven’t even so much as hummed. Not even for Lucy Erryn.

So I take a deep breath and start. I’m singing for Lucy Erryn and Branton and the baby and for Rue and the childhood that Prim and I lost. I sing “The Hanging Tree” out loud for the first time in fifteen years. But I still remember every word.

As I sing, the mockingjays follow the melody, until the entire lake and surrounding forest is ringing with our song.

By the time I finish the song, the baby is flipping and kicking and tumbling more than ever before.

I look up and Peeta’s still there, smiling so bright. But then the image of him fades away and I’m left feeling hollow.

I have to turn away to hide the burning tears.

We board the hovercraft and again I sit away from everyone. I think I fall asleep, because I start seeing Rue, but then her face turns into Prim when she was reaped and then it’s Lucy Erryn and Branton and there’s so much blood everywhere.

When have my nightmares become so vivid I see them even when I’m awake?

And then I see him so clearly, sitting next to me. _“It’s okay, Katniss.”_

I stare at him, knowing he’s not actually here, that if I reach out to touch him, my hand will go straight through him. But I still whisper so softly that no one can hear me, “I love you."

He gives me a sad smile, but he doesn’t say it back.

I blink and he’s gone.

When we make it back to Thirteen, Prim is waiting for me. She escorts me to Lucy Erryn’s room, telling me that the surgery went well and she woke up a little bit ago and is adjusting to her new processors.

As soon as I step into the hospital room, Lucy Erryn sees me and immediately bursts into tears. She stretches her arms out for me and I hurry to sit on the edge of the bed and pull her into my lap.

She complains about the pain, wanting to scratch at the bandages around her. She wants to know why I wasn’t there when she woke up and why she can’t see Daddy.

I don’t know how much comfort it’ll bring her, but I pull out Peeta’s sweater from my game bag. “This is one of your daddy’s favorite sweaters.”

And just like what I did, she buries her face in it and inhales deeply. It seems to calm her tears and I help her put it on, rolling the sleeves up almost to the elbow so it only dangles slightly around her wrists.

_“I think the sweater suits her better.”_

I cringe at his voice. I don’t want to see him. I don’t understand why I continue seeing these visions of him.

It could be stress. The lack of sleep. My mind finally cracking.

Whatever it is though, I still lie down on the bed with Lucy Erryn. She curls up on her side and grabs my hand. Her little fingers play with my pearl until she falls asleep. I try and fall asleep too, but I can’t. I can only think of everything that can go wrong.

She wakes up after a few hours and they bring us dinner. Normally, we would have to go to a cafeteria and eat with the rest of Thirteen, but they’re making an exception for Lucy Erryn to continue getting used to her processors.

I pick at my food, much to my mother’s dismay. I do manage a few bites, just for her. And once Lucy Erryn’s done with her food, she’s released from the hospital wing. Prim has all the info for the pain medication and when she needs to come back to get her stitches out and all the post-surgery care she needs.

It’s going to take me a while to get used to seeing Prim like this. A responsible young lady who has her hair done in a single braid that's wrapped into a bun while she works and her shirt always neat tucked in.

Back at the compartment, Lucy Erryn falls asleep almost immediately again. I lie down with her, but I don’t get too much sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I can only see images of blood, the Games, and Peeta’s black eyes.

Morning finally comes. While everyone else is getting ready for the day, my mother shows up with Finnick. She’s going to watch Lucy Erryn while everyone is at work and Finnick is going to take me to my meeting with Coin.

“How are you liking Thirteen so far?” Finnick asks as we walk down the corridors towards Command.

“It’s fine,” I answer in a tight voice.

Finnick chuckles. “Good answer.”

“Has there been any updates on Peeta?”

Finnick shakes his head. “I can take you to see him afterwards though.”

When we get to Command, Finnick leads me into a large conference room. As soon as I walk in, there’s clapping.

“There she is! There’s our Mockingjay!”

It’s Plutarch Heavensbee.

Why am I not surprised that he’s been with the rebels this whole time?

At the table, Haymitch, Gale, Beetee and Alma Coin are there as well.

Plutarch is the only that actually looks pleased.

Gale is stoic, his arms crossed over his chest. Beetee seems nervous, his hands folded in front of him, his thumbs running circles. Haymitch is scowling as he leans back in his chair.

And Coin…she’s smiling, but there’s a gleam of a threat in her eyes.

I sit across from her and refuse to allow myself to be intimidated.

“It’s finally nice to meet you in person,” Coin says. “I understand you haven’t had too much time to adjust yet, but I do hope you transition easily into life here. It’s not as glamorous as the Capitol, but we make do. And I would also like to add how brave it was for you to decide to have another couple take charge of Lucy. It speaks volumes of your character.”

My fists involuntarily clench. “Her name is Lucy Erryn.”

Coin just nods. “And I’m sure she’s adjusting well with her new family. Children are resilient.”

I notice Haymitch smirking a little. I’m almost certain no one at this table aside from me, Haymitch, and Finnick know that Lucy Erryn hasn’t really been taken away from me.

Coin moves on. “We just saw your first propo-“

“I _loved_ it,” Plutarch interrupts. “I gotta say, I was a bit skeptical when they continued insisting on having you come in as the Mockingjay. But you exceeded my expectations by a long shot.”

“Should we roll the clip?” Beetee asks, looking around for nods of approval, which he finds from everyone except Coin.

The clip starts out with simple shots of me walking in the rubble. I place a hand on my stomach, not realizing I’m actually that big. Was I that big with the other pregnancies?

Then a background audio comes on. My voice singing and more shots of the destruction. A clip of Gale comes on, a quick, edited word about the bombing.

_“There was no warning. But the Capitol never gives a warning when they’re going to completely destroy something.”_

More shots of me walking and the song fades out. The last shot is the one Cressida had me do multiple times.

_“People of Panem, we dare to hope. We will end our hunger for justice. We will see our children growing up in a time of peace. Our children will not pay for our sins.”_ On screen, I place a hand on my stomach. And I look the part of a fierce mother bear that will protect her cubs from anything. Even death itself.

The video ends with a black screen and a rendering of my gold mockingjay pin.

Plutarch begins clapping again. “I get chills every time I see it.”

Everyone looks pleased. Even Gale has a slight smile of approval.

But Coin looks as if she just swallowed a lemon.

“Beetee will be helping us to run this on Capitol television tonight. An announcement to the Capitol that we are still here and we are not going anywhere.” Coin clasps her hands and seems to gather her words before saying her next statement. “However, in the future, it would be best for everyone if you stuck to the script given.”

Haymitch snorts. “The only time anything noteworthy comes out of her mouth is when she is _unscripted_.”

I glare at him for a moment, then turn my gaze back to Coin. “Everyone’s happy with how it came out. I don’t see what the big deal is.”

Coin leans forward. “The big deal is when people go off script, our message can get lost in translation. We don’t want that to happen. We want the Capitol to understand perfectly what we’re trying to convey. That we are going to _fight_ and throw everything we have at them.”

I clench my jaw. “Well, I hope that message wasn’t lost. Because I damn well am fighting for something too.”

“I hope it’s the same thing as we are.”

The temperature in the room seems to drop ten degrees with her words. I can practically feel Finnick stiffening beside me and Haymitch is sitting ramrod straight, glowering down at his hands.

Then Coin sits back and smiles. “I won’t take up anymore of your time, Ms. Everdeen. I look forward to more propos. After you’ve delivered of course.”

She gets up and walks out with Gale following close behind.

I stand up. Faster than I should because I feel lightheaded as soon as I do and small black spots at the edge of my vision. But it’s enough to make Coin pause and turn to look at me.

“It’s _Mrs. Mellark._ ”

She smiles, not looking the least bit concerned that she got my name wrong. _Again_.

“Force of habit,” she says instead of an apology and continues on her way with Gale still trailing after her.

Tears are pricking at my eyes and I feel anger boiling inside of me.

_“Don’t let her get to you, Katniss.”_

I turn around and right behind Haymitch, is Peeta again.

_“I know what your name is. Katniss Mellark. Sister. Tribute. Victor. Mother. Wife.”_

“Katniss?”

Finnick places a hand on my arm and I jolt back. I look at him once, catching the concern in his eyes, then back to where Peeta is.

He’s gone again.

Haymitch leans forward, a frown on his face. “You good?” he asks.

And I actually laugh at the question. “Do you think I am? With everything that has happened in the last five years, hell in the last _week_ , do you think I’m good?!”

Haymitch, to his credit, does not yell back.

I almost wish he would.

I take a deep breath and look to Finnick. “I want to see Peeta.”

He exchanges a quick glance with Haymitch, but then nods.

We walk down hallways again and I try my best to start memorizing them. I want to be able to see Peeta whenever I want.

Once at the room, Finnick doesn’t go in with me. He asks if I can find my way back to Prim’s compartment from here.

I nod, even though I know I’m going to get lost. What better way to figure out this layout?

“You have to believe me, Katniss, but this isn’t forever. Things are going to change. They have to.”

But will they change for the better?

He leaves and I go into the hospital room. It’s different today. There’s only Dr. Aurelius here, sitting at one of the tables and writing something down. “You’re back already? I thought I told you to go get some rest?”

I frown as I look at Dr. Aurelius and he meets my gaze as well.

He has a stern look on his face, but when he sees it’s me, his expression changes to one of mild shock. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

I’m about to ask who else has come by to see Peeta, but then I hear his voice.

“Where is she?” he whispers, though his voice is amplified over a microphone. “Where is she?” He turns his head and I can see his eyes moving, looking for someone.

I want to think that he’s looking for me, but it’s most likely Lucy Erryn he’s looking for. “He’s awake?” I ask, moving to the window and trying to see what color his eyes are.

“For about fifteen minutes, yes.”

“And all the venom…?”

“Out of his system, but we still have on a high dosage of morphling. It’s possible he’s still hallucinating because that now.”

Should I mention that I’ve been hallucinating too? Seeing Peeta in every room and every corner? “Does he really need that much?”

Dr. Aurelius nods. “His heart rate is still not going down on it’s own. It’s very likely he’ll have to be on heart medication to control it for at least the foreseeable future.”

It’ll be much longer though. More permanent damage from the Capitol.

“Can I…?” The words get stuck in my throat. I want to see him closer. Hold him. Know that he’s real and alive still.

“I’m afraid not,” Dr. Aurelius says with a trace of sympathy in his voice. “We can’t be sure how he’ll react. I want to show him this new propo of you before he sees you in person. See how he reacts a recording of you and then we’ll go from there.”

How is it possible that this man, the one who would wake up beside me, smiling, tucking hair behind my ear, kissing my nose, my cheeks, my lips, now has to be slowly introduced to seeing me?

But I’m not the only one who misses him and wants to see him. “What about Lucy Erryn?”

Dr. Aurelius finally smiles. “I actually think it would be highly beneficial he does see her. I do think we need to wait until she has her stitches taken out, but I don’t see any reason why she shouldn’t be allowed to see her father.”


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been quite the week for me. So writing this chapter definitely helped me relax and destress a bit. But that also means the chapter kind of got away from me and it extra long this time around. I cut it down a bit, but I had to fit all this in here because for the next chapter, we're going to be having a big event and I needed to make sure I had enough space to fit it all in one chapter! Ahhh, i'm super excited for everyone to read the next chapter!
> 
> Anyways, thank you always so much for your kind words and constant kudos! They make my heart skip, lol. Let me know what you lovelies think and I hope you enjoy it!!

The propo is screened for all of Thirteen to see before it’s played on Capitol airwaves. Days later, their chanting is still stuck in my head.

_“Mockingjay! Mockingjay! Mockingjay!”_

When I hear their chanting, I also see Peeta's ghost. Frowning. And he always says, _"It's a war cry."_

There’s an attack on the dam that brings power to the Capitol right after the propo is released. The Capitol retaliates by bombing a hospital in District Two. District Seven destroys nearly half the stationed Peacekeepers. The Capitol publicly executes dozens of people under suspicion of working with the rebels.

Moves and countermoves.

As these attacks carry on, I hide from everyone, staying locked up in the compartment. I don’t want to see anyone. I don’t want to see the hope and wonder in their eyes when they look at me.

Can’t they see the destruction I've brought?

But sometimes, with their hope I see something else.

They look at me as a leader.

That’s the last thing I want.

The only time I leave the compartment is in the mornings before everyone else wakes up. I go to Peeta.

Dr. Aurelius is always there. Sometimes writing something down and not even bothering to look up. Other times, his head tilted all the way back and his mouth slightly open as he softly snores.

I grab a chair and sit directly in front of the window and watch Peeta as he sleeps.

He’s never awake when I come. It’s better this way. I can pretend he’s okay while he sleeps.

Peeta’s only a few feet away, separated only by a one-way window. But this is the farthest I’ve felt from him since right after our homecoming from our Games. When we lived only twenty-five yards apart, but I avoided him completely.

The first morning I came, Dr. Aurelius tells me he showed him the propo.

It didn’t go well. They had to sedate him and they didn’t try again until the next day. That time, the muted it and skipped over the clips of Gale. He still reacted badly, but not enough to sedate him. A few hours later, they only played the audio of me singing.

His heart rate dropped to almost normal levels and he began crying. Then he asked, “Where is she?”

But when Dr. Aurelius asked who he was looking for, Peeta couldn’t give him a name. He just said the girl that’s singing.

“We’re still running tests, but there’s a possibility that he’s created two different versions of you,” Dr. Aurelius tells me. “One version the Katniss he was programmed to fear by the Capitol and the second version the one he’s always known. In his mind though, it’s two completely different people.”

I want to ask him if that means there’s hope I can get the old Peeta back. I don’t ask though, because I’m scared of the answer, scared of the hope it might bring.

They start bringing in people from Twelve to talk to him. To convince him he’s safe here.

I want to laugh at the idea. We’ll never be safe. Not here, not in the Capitol. Not anywhere.

Prim is the first one to see him.

Dr. Aurelius said it was fine for the first few minutes. Then somehow my name was brought up and he lost it. They had to pull Prim out and sedate him.

That night, Prim laid down with me, Lucy Erryn asleep in between us. She grabbed my left hand and stared at my wedding ring.

“They always told us it wasn’t real. You were both forced into it and didn’t have any real feelings for each other. Some even said that Peeta was in on it,” she whispered when everyone had fallen asleep.

“What did you believe?” I ask.

She’s quiet for a moment. And I’m scared it’s because she believed what they said about him. “He made me strawberry cupcakes for my birthday once. And every time he talked about you on TV, he always had this look in his eyes…” She squeezes my hand. “And you still keep your wedding ring on. Even though you hate wearing any kind of jewelry.”

I can’t hold back my tears. Prim doesn’t let go of my hand and we fall asleep like that.

Lucy Erryn finally gets her stitches out almost two weeks after her surgery. Prim is the one to take her to the hospital wing. Lucy Erryn is practically bouncing on her feet while waiting for Prim. She knows that once they’re done, she gets to go see her daddy.

I roll up the sleeves of Peeta’s sweater for her again. She hasn’t taken it off since I gave it to her. She tells me about all the things she’s going to tell Peeta and show him all the drawings she’s made for him.

All of them featuring the three of us as a happy family, smiling under the sun.

I kiss the tip of her nose and usher her off with Prim, telling her she doesn’t want to be late.

A few minutes later, I’m leaving the compartment to see Peeta. Later than normal, but only because I want to be there for when Lucy Erryn shows up.

Peeta’s awake when I get there. His eyes are staring up at the ceiling and one of his thumbs is moving back and forth over the sheets.

It’s the same thumb he would always use to rub over my wedding ring.

I mirror his movement, running my thumb over and over my wedding ring.

Nurses being filling in and the quiet is replaced by a soft hum that grows as computers are turned on and morning chatter fill the air. I resist the urge to leave. Prim should be coming soon with Lucy Erryn. I want to make sure Lucy Erryn gets the hug that she deserves and if something goes wrong…I’ll be here for her. While my hugs might not be his, it’s still a hug.

A nurse goes into the small room. She adjusts the machines some, checks something off on her clipboard, moves the bed to place him in a sitting position.

“Where is she?” I hear him ask over the speaker.

The nurse mumbles something in response, but it’s not enough for him.

“Where is she?” he repeats.

She leaves the room without giving him an answer.

About half an hour later, Prim comes and drops off Lucy Erryn. I get up and watch her as she looks around the room with wide eyes. But then her eyes land on Peeta and her face breaks into the widest smile possible.

“Daddy!” she exclaims, running and pressing her face to the window. “Daddy! I’m here!”

She realizes something is very wrong when he doesn’t respond. “What’s wrong with him?” she asks, looking up at me with confusion in those blue eyes.

“Your daddy is just a little sick right now,” Dr. Aurelius says as he approaches. He explains the situation to Lucy Erryn without actually telling her what’s wrong. He keeps emphasizing that her daddy is sick and she has to be careful with him and if any of us think that something bad might happen, they’ll take her out of the room right away.

For her part, Lucy Erryn doesn’t ask any questions or protests. She simply nods, eyes still wide as she looks back at Peeta.

I’m sure in her mind, she’s trying to piece together what happened based on the last time she saw him.

Finally, Dr. Aurelius looks at me, an eyebrow raised in question. I nod and bend down as best as I’m able to give Lucy Erryn a quick kiss. “Give Daddy a big hug for me, okay?” I say, adjusting her braids a little to hide the shaved spots on her head from the surgery.

“You’re not coming?” she asks with a frown.

I give her what I hope is a reassuring smile. “I can’t. Remember, Daddy’s sick? I have to be careful because of the baby.”

Her frown only grows and she stares at my stomach. It’s then that I realize we never explained to her what me being pregnant really meant. Neither of us thought I would make it this far.

And then I remember what Dr. Pythian did and the role of the rebels and I push down my anger for the moment.

My focus needs to be solely on Lucy Erryn and Peeta right now.

Dr. Aurelius goes inside with Lucy Erryn. She lingers for a moment, taking in Peeta strapped onto the bed and the machines.

Peeta slowly turns his head and his eyes are unfocused, but the same blue as Lucy Erryn’s eyes. “Lucy Erryn?”

“Daddy!” she cries, running to him and launching herself on the bed. She wraps her arms around him, but he doesn’t move.

He can’t.

“Please. God, please, just let me hug her,” Peeta pleads. “I promise. I promise, I’m not going to hurt her. I promise. I promise.”

Dr. Aurelius moves forward and begins undoing the straps. And as soon as his arms are loosened, he wraps his arms around Lucy Erryn.

Just like on the hovercraft, Peeta’s body shakes with tears as he holds on as tightly as possible to Lucy Erryn.

Lucy Erryn pulls away after a while, still crying but now trying to tell Peeta all she can about everything’s that happened.

Peeta cradles her face. “You’re real. This is real. Real. Real, real, real, real.”

“When are you going to get better?” Lucy Erryn asks.

Peeta shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. He lets out a muffled groan.

“Mommy wanted me to give you a hug because she can’t come in here because you’re sick and she doesn’t want to hurt the baby.”

I swallow hard, noticing how Peeta’s body immediately stiffens. I want to believe that he’ll never hurt Lucy Erryn, but…what if the Capitol changed him that much?

Dr. Aurelius has stiffened as well and I notice him edging closer back to the bed. Just in case.

But then, in a whisper, he asks, “Mommy’s here?”

Lucy Erryn nods. Then she turns to the window, and even though she can’t see me, she still points. “She’s in there.”

Again, Dr. Aurelius moves even closer.

“Can I…does she…?” Peeta closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Can you ask her if I can see her please?”

His voice is a plea and I want to run into the room and tell him of course he can see me and hold him and make him promise to never leave me and that we’re going to be okay.

But I stay frozen in place.

Dr. Aurelius clears his throat. “It’s up to you,” he says, facing me even if he can’t see me.

My feet are moving before I even realize I’ve made a decision. I go in, standing by the door, ready to leave if it’s too much, but praying it’s not.

Peeta turns his head and looks at me. And I bite the inside of my cheek as his eyes begin turning black. He squeezes his eyes shut and starts pulling at his hair. “No. No, not real, it’s not…she wouldn’t…don’t let her…the baby. She’ll hurt it. _No_ , she won’t, she…she…”

Dr. Aurelius grabs Lucy Erryn off the bed, ignoring her protests and he’s about to inject something into Peeta’s IV.

But then I start singing.

My voice wavers a little as I try and hold back tears. My voice carries and even though he keeps his eyes closed, his body relaxes.

It’s the Valley Song. The first song he ever heard me sing. The song that captured his attention towards me.

Peeta starts shaking his head. “I don’t…I…nothing makes sense anymore.”

The rest of the song dies in my throat. I take one step closer to him. “Peeta?”

He opens his eyes and begins moving, strapping his own arm in. “It’s coming. I can’t…please, help me,” he says, looking to Dr. Aurelius.

Dr. Aurelius doesn’t hesitate as he straps down Peeta’s other arm and injects the sedative into Peeta’s IV.

And just as his eyes become fully black, the morphling starts working in his system and his eyes become glazed over.

Lucy Erryn begins approaching the bed again. “Daddy?”

He looks at her and for a moment, I wonder if he’s even registering she’s there.

But he smiles and slurs, “My beautiful girl.” Then his eyes slide shut.

Lucy Erryn frowns and grabs his arm, shaking it as much as she can. “Wake up.”

He doesn’t open his eyes, the drugs knocking him unconscious.

“No, wake up, Daddy!”

I walk towards her, “Lucy Erryn-“

“No! He’s supposed to wake up! He’s supposed to look at my pictures!”

Dr. Aurelius crouches down to her level. “Lucy Erryn, your daddy is-“

“No! No, it’s not fair! It’s not fair! He’s supposed to wake up and be okay and I want him to be okay and to go back home!” she screams, tears streaming down her face.

The home she’s thinking of is the Capitol.

“I want to go back and for Daddy to come with me! Wake up, Daddy! Wake up!!”

“Lucy Erryn, we can’t-“

She spins around to look at me, her face pinched together. “It’s your fault!” she yells, pointing a finger at me. “It’s all your fault!!”

Her words pierce me like a flaming arrow, straight into my chest.

She’s still screaming and has now thrown herself to the floor.

My mind is telling me to run away. From Peeta, Lucy Erryn, the rebels, _everything_.

But I can’t. My heart won’t let me.

So I move closer to her and I try to think of way to pick her up off the floor. Dr. Aurelius sees my dilemma though and does it for me.

With Lucy Erryn still screaming and kicking, I take her from Dr. Aurelius and hold her over my shoulder. Holding my head high, I leave the room and walk down the corridors until we’re back to the compartment.

I try to talk to her, biting back tears of frustration. Lucy Erryn flings off her processors and buries her head under a pillow.

She cries for an hour and just I sit there next to her, not touching her because I know she’ll only move away.

While she cries, her words ring in my head.

_“It’s your fault! It’s all your fault!”_

I see Peeta, kneeling on the floor, hand outstretched close enough to rub Lucy Erryn’s back. _“She’s just confused,”_ he says. _“She doesn’t understand.”_

Except there is still some truth in her words. There are so many others who’s name is on the list of people to blame for Peeta’s current condition. And my name is on there. If I had never opened my heart to his love, allowed myself to love him back, none of this would have ever happened.

_“It was worth it though. To finally see you smiling again.”_ He looks up at me, smiling and overflowing love in his expression. _“I love you. And you love me. Things are going to get better.”_

“How?” I whisper to his ghost.

He continues smiling and turns his gaze back to Lucy Erryn. _“Things are going to get better.”_

It’s not an answer to my question. But the Peeta I’m imagining believes it so much that a part of me starts believing it too.

Lucy Erryn doesn’t sleep with me that night. She’s still mad at me and has chosen to sleep with Delia instead. And when she wakes up in the morning, she still refuses to talk to me.

Today is her first day of school though, since her stitches have finally come out. An excuse for her to avoid me for several hours.

With a lump in my throat, I realize I’ve missed her birthday. It was a week and a half ago. She’s five now. And I completely forgot.

Peeta wouldn’t have forgotten.

I have to make it up to her.

So after Prim leaves with Lucy Erryn, I go see Peeta. But I’m not going to just sit and watch. Well, at least not right away. Something has to be done to get him back. Because we need him. Our little family is starting to tear apart without him.

Dr. Aurelius and a few other nurses look up when I come in. Dr. Aurelius smiles at me. “There you are. I was beginning to think you weren’t coming today.”

“Who’s been here?”

Dr. Aurelius frowns. He looks around at the gathered nurses. “Um, quite a few people-“

“No. I mean who’s been here to see Peeta. Who have you brought in?”

“Ah.” He grabs a clipboard off the table and flips through the papers until he finds what he’s looking for. “Your sister obviously, Delly Cartwright…” He lists five other people. But he didn’t say the name I’m waiting for.

Before I ask though, I ask something else. “Haymitch hasn’t come?”

Dr. Aurelius grimaces. “I asked him. He didn’t believe it was a good idea for Peeta to see him just yet.”

I can’t help a small scoff.

“But he does come at night. Right before I leave for the night and he stays until I come in the next morning. I think he’s making sure no one does anything to him,” Dr. Aurelius says with a tiny smile.

This new information takes me by surprise. Is this his way of trying to make up for things?

I clench my jaw. There’s still a lot more to make up for though and even then, I don’t know if I ever want to actually talk to him again.

But I can’t let myself get distracted. “So you haven’t had a Byran Carsen come by?”

Dr. Aurelius checks his list again and shakes his head. “Does he have any kind of personal connection to you?”

I shake my head. “He does with Peeta though.”

He jots something down, slowly nodding his head. “I’ll look into it. Maybe we can get him in tomorrow.”

I stay for a few hours, not having anywhere else to go. I watch as they run tests. Ask him questions to which he barely responds. Let him off the bed to walk around the room for a little bit.

“Where is she?” Peeta asks when Dr. Aurelius comes in.

“Who?”

“Th-the singing girl. Where is she?”

“She was here yesterday. Don’t you remember?”

The heart rate monitor jumps. “No. No, that wasn’t…she isn’t…” Peeta shakes his head and squeezes his eyes.

“Can you maybe tell me what she looks like? The singing girl.”

“She…she looks like…” he shakes his head, almost violently. “Not real. Not real, not real, notrealnotrealnotreal.”

Dr. Aurelius sits patiently, his voice reminding Peeta to breathe. It takes longer than I wish it did, but Peeta finally gets his breathing back under control without Dr. Aurelius having to give him more sedatives.

He repeats his question. “What does she look like, Peeta?”

Peeta grips the sheets tightly, his face screwing up before opening his eyes again. “She looks like _her_.”

“Like who?”

Peeta shakes his head. “Please don’t…I don’t…she isn’t…”

“Who does she look like?” Dr. Aurelius presses.

The silence seems to seep into this side of the room and it’s suffocating and I want to leave before Peeta can answer.

But he finally does and it makes my heart sink.

He opens his eyes, filled with fear and hatred. “Katniss.”

The way he says my name matches the feelings in his eyes. At night, I can’t get it out of my head. It’s repeating over and over and over and I’m never going to be able to sleep.

_“Katniss.”_

I open my eyes. He’s there lying beside me, smiling. My chest loosens, making it easier to breath.

The love in his voice…that’s what I want to hear. What I want to remember.

I hope it doesn’t fade into a memory. One day soon, he’ll be lying here next to me, actually present, and he’ll say my name. Just like that.

I don’t leave the compartment the next day. I feel exhausted and moving to even get up sounds like too much effort.

Prim does help me sit up though and she presses a hand to my stomach. “It could be any day now,” she says with an excited smile.

I wish I shared her excitement. Because as the time gets closer, my hopes of having Peeta next to me while I’m in labor dwindle.

Lucy Erryn gives me a wave goodbye this time, pushing the sleeve of the sweater up to her elbow.

It’s progress.

With everyone gone to their duties for the day, I sit in bed and flip through Peeta’s recipe book. My hands trace over his handwriting. I can tell the places where he was rushing as his letters loop together and the pressure is light. And the recipes he took his time writing, the writing crisp and the pencil lead just a shade darker. Stains from raspberry jam or butter. A smudged fingerprint from some kind of sauce.

There’s a knock on the compartment door.

I look up at the closed door and hold back a groan. I don’t want any visitors right now.

The knocking persists though. What if it’s someone with news about Peeta? That something’s happened. Either good or bad.

“Come in,” I finally call out.

The door slides open and it’s Rye. With Branton, awake in his arms.

I sit up a little straighter and I can’t help my smile. Big gray eyes stare back at me. My heart swells with love, it’s almost unbearable. “Hi,” I say softly, not taking my eyes from him.

Rye give Branton a little poke in his stomach. Branton scrunches up his nose and raises a hand to wave at me.

Rye set Branton down and allows him to toddle further into the compartment. “I thought it might be a good idea to bring Branton by and if you’re feeling up to it, you could watch him for a couple of hours?”

“Of course,” I say quickly.

Rye looks down to my stomach. “And don’t worry about having to be running after him. He’s a pretty calm kid. Probably gets that from you because Peeta was…” He shakes his head, pulling himself out of whatever memory he was stuck in.

I want to tell him to please, keep talking. Tell me what he can about Peeta. His childhood. Anything.

“I’ll come back in a few hours to pick him up,” Rye says. “See you later, Branton.”

But Branton has taken interest in the colored pencils Lucy Erryn left out this morning.

Rye smiles a little, then gives me a small wave as he leaves.

And for the first time, I’m left alone with Branton. With mine and Peeta’s son.

I let him wander around a little, watching as he explores, babbling a little with a few random words thrown in. He’s much quieter than Lucy Erryn was at his age, especially after she was fitted for her first processors. And every time he smiles, a bittersweet feeling fills me. Because it’s Peeta’s smile and I think of him, restrained to that bed, his mind so broken.

But maybe that’s where Rye was going today. Dr. Aurelius must have scheduled him in to see Peeta and it could finally be that first step in Peeta’s mind healing and to having him back.

Branton finishes his exploring and climbs up on the bed with me. He points to the recipe book in my lap and exclaims, “Ook!”

“Book,” I say, making sure to exaggerate my pronunciation on the ‘b.’

He smiles, this time looking self-satisfied. “Ook.” His little hands reach over to grab it and I let him. He flips through pages and babbles, as if he’s reading every single word.

Then I point at a word on the list of ingredients for a cherry pie recipe. “One cup cherries. Pitted.”

He pauses and stares at the words. I repeat them, dragging my finger under each word as I speak. And I go down the list of ingredients and read the directions too. He flips the page and I begin reading the next recipe for him.

There’s only two recipes left in the book when the compartment door slides open. It’s Delia, coming back from picking up Lucy Erryn from school.

Lucy Erryn glances at me, seems to decide she’s still going to ignore me, then she looks back and sees Branton sitting next to me. Her face screws up into confusion and she climbs on to the bed with us, squirming her way in between me and Branton.

“Why is he here?” Lucy Erryn asks, pushing her sleeve up as it dangled past her hand.

“How was school?” I ask instead of answering her question.

Lucy Erryn shrugs, pressing into my side and glaring at Branton who’s decided to introduce himself to Delia. “Why is he here?” she persists, pointing at him.

“I’m watching him for a little bit.”

“But doesn’t he have a mommy or a daddy that can watch him instead? Why do you have to do it?”

Delia bends to pick up Branton and I notice the pinched expression on her face. I’m sure my own looks similar. “He does,” I whisper.

Delia stands Branton up on the bed and using both hands, extends her thumb and pinky and shakes them, then points to Branton.

Lucy Erryn scrunches up her nose. "No, I don't want to play with him." But she straightens and watches Branton wobble towards her. He plops down right in front of her and stares at her.

And for a moment, I think that Lucy Erryn has started to accept her little brother.

But then Branton reaches out, grabs one of her braids, and pulls as hard as he can.

Lucy Erryn starts screaming and I reach over to try and pry his fingers away and Delia picks him up, squeezing his stomach and trying to get him to let go. The entire time, Branton is laughing.

We finally manage to separate them, with Delia holding Branton up and me holding Lucy Erryn back as she continues crying. Then Lucy Erryn reaches over and I can’t pull her arm back and she pinches Branton as hard as he can.

Branton starts crying and Lucy Erryn is still crying and I feel my own eyes filling with tears of frustration.

That’s when the compartment door opens again and this time it’s Prim standing there with Rye.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Rye asks as he quickly takes Branton from Delia’s arms and starts comforting him.

But that’s my job. I’m his mother. I’m the one that should be comforting Branton. Except there’s still Lucy Erryn and she’s sobbing and clinging to me and Branton grabbed her hair right where her stitches were and the area is still sore.

A new thought comes to me. That maybe it’s a good thing Branton was taken away when he was born. Because I obviously can’t handle more than one kid.

Peeta could. He would know what to do with both of them.

“I should get going. It’s his nap time anyways and when he gets like this, nothing is going to make him stop crying until he falls asleep,” Rye says, bouncing Branton a little in his arms as he continues crying.

That’s something I should know. I’m Branton’s mother. But I know absolutely nothing about him.

And I’m caught up in the desperation of the situation and with the kids crying, I don’t overthink the question that flies from my mouth.

“Did you talk to him?”

Rye’s face grows hard and my heart sinks. “Can we talk about it later?”

I take off Lucy Erryn’s processors, and point to the desk with her coloring supplies. With one palm open, I lightly brush two fingers overs it, telling her to go color something.

With one last glare at Branton, she slides off the bed, wiping her nose on the back of her sleeve and settling down at the desk, grabbing red and brown and pressing the crayons hard to the paper.

I hold out a hand and Delia immediately leans over to help me stand up. “Let’s talk about it now.”

Rye purses his lips, glancing to Branton who’s still crying and then to me. Finally, he sighs and rolls his eyes. “Do you think you can handle him for a bit?” he asks Delia.

She nods, already reaching her arms out to grab Branton.

I gesture to the door of the compartment and Rye steps out into the hallway. I follow him, hoping no one will pass by us.

“So did you talk to him?” I ask, crossing my arms.

Rye shakes his head. “I couldn’t.”

I have to bite back my yell. “Why not?” Even though I don’t yell, my voice is tense.

“It’s not going to help like you think it will.”

“Why? You’re his brother. What better connection for him to make than with someone from his family? Someone that he’s thought has been dead this entire time.”

Rye shakes his head. “It’s better if I stay dead to him.”

“I don’t understand. Why would you say that? Why would it be better?” My voice trembles with my growing frustration.

“Because we weren’t like you and Prim. Our family was completely different. It was every man for himself and if I show up with his mind in the state that it’s in…” Rye shakes his head. “It’s not going to do him any good.”

Even as he talks, I can’t help but remember that first day of school. Rye holding Peeta’s hand as he dropped him off at kindergarten class. Rye making up an excuse to the teacher when Peeta showed up at second grade with a black eye.

But then I remember how Rye took a step back when Peeta’s name was called during the reaping. He let Peeta go into the arena. He didn’t volunteer for him.

Then again, I was the first ever volunteer. No one ever expected their siblings to volunteer for them if their name was called in the reaping.

Because it was every man for himself.

“We weren’t good at being brothers. I didn’t protect him like I should’ve. And he’s going to remember that and it’s not going to do him any good right now.” He takes a deep breath and looks down at his hands. “Maybe it’s better for everyone that I stay Byran Carsen.”

Rye doesn’t give me a chance to argue. He moves past me and back into the compartment.

Inside, Branton is still crying and Delia is trying to calm him down. Lucy Erryn is facing them a glare on her face and her arms crossed. A humorless smile crosses Rye’s face as he grabs Branton from Delia. “Mellark’s don’t make good siblings,” Rye says. “It’s in our blood.”


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is finally here.

Rye is wrong. And I’m going to prove he’s wrong. Once he leaves with Branton, I sit Lucy Erryn down in front of me.

“Lucy Erryn, you’re a big sister.”

She blinks and tilts her head slightly.

“Do you remember that time we made snowmen and you said you had a baby brother?”

She blinks again and leans a little away from me.

“We found him, Lucy Erryn. We found him and you are a big sister.”

She frowns. “Well, where is he?”

I purse my lips. If I tell her, how long will she keep it a secret? I glance at Delia and she gives me a small nod. I can't draw this out any longer. It's unfair to her.

“It’s Branton. That little boy that was just here. That’s your brother.”

Her frown only grows. “No, you’re wrong.”

“That’s your little brother, Lucy Erryn, and you’re going to have another baby brother or sister really soon because I’m pregnant. I have a baby growing inside of me.”

She shakes her head. “But my teachers at home always told me that too and nothing ever happens!”

The baby has been moving around all day, but at the precise moment, it gives a strong kick. One that Lucy Erryn will definitely feel. I grab her hand and press it to the exact spot. “Do you feel that? That’s the baby. That is your baby brother or sister in there and they’re coming soon. You are a big sister and you have to learn what that means. It means you’re going to help Mommy and Daddy protect your siblings. When we can’t be there, you have to be there. But I am going to do my best to make sure one of us is always there. You are _never_ going to be left alone with your siblings, Lucy Erryn.”

Because that’s where it all goes wrong, isn’t it? When one parent dies. When one mentally checks out. When one wishes you had never been born. When one stands back and lets abuse happen to you.

And with Peeta in the hospital, I will make sure I am always there for Lucy Erryn, this baby, and Branton. They will be good siblings. They’re young and they'll learn. I know Lucy Erryn will be a good sister.

She took to Lambrini after a few days. She can do the same with her own siblings.

I gently squeeze her hands that are still pressed to my stomach. “And just because there’s more people in our family doesn’t mean that I’m going to love you any less. You are always going to be my precious Lucy Erryn.”

She pulls her hands away and looks down. “What about Daddy?”

I cup her chin and lift her face. “He loves you so much too. He will do anything to make sure you are always safe. And even right now when he’s sick, he still wants to make sure that you’re okay. He isn’t going to stop loving you because of Branton or this new baby or because of anything else. Okay?”

Her lower lip begins to tremble. “I just really miss Daddy and I don’t like it here and I want to go outside and I miss our home.”

She throws her arms around me and starts crying again. I hold her tight. I don’t know if I told her the right things or if I’ve made things worse by telling her who Branton really is.

But she is hugging me and I made sure she knows how much Peeta and I love her. That has to be enough for right now.

For the next few days, she’s even more attentive. Randomly touching my stomach and asking how the baby is. She doesn’t ask for Branton though. I think she’s still trying to get used to the idea that the baby brother she thought was lost is not a baby anymore and that we’ve found him. That she really is a big sister now.

But the attitude she had towards me earlier is now directed at Thirteen. Small complaints about not being able to go outside, hating the uniforms, wishing she could go back home.

At one point, Rory came into the compartment with her, an hour after she had left for school. My stress level shot up, but then she smiled at me and went to sit at the desk to color.

Rory has a pinched expression on his face, so I ask Lucy Erryn for her processors, telling her I need to charge them.

Once they're off, I ask Rory what happened.

He scratches his chin, where stubble is starting to grow in. "She insisted on singing _Gem of Panem_ to her class."

I hold back a groan and give a small nod instead. "I'll talk to her."

I wait a few hours after Rory's left to have this conversation with her. "You can't sing that song here. We're not in the Capitol anymore."

Lucy Erryn pouts, playing with a thread that's come loose on one of the sleeves. I'll have to fix it while she's bathing, the only time she takes it off.

"But I want to go back. I miss home, Mommy."

I kiss the top of her head. I don't have the energy to explain that it never was. I don't want to tell her of all the horrible things the Capitol has done and is still doing.

Not with everything going on and not while we're in this place. Because the rebels have their sins to answer for too.

I still visit Peeta in the mornings. Dr. Aurelius says he’s improving. They’ve started keeping the restraints off of him and have even brought in a desk and a chair. Drawings are piling up, but there’s more crumpled paper on the ground than finished drawings.

Dr. Aurelius even tells me that some of the Victors are visiting him. Finnick and Annie, Johanna, Arnia, Jayx, Beetee.  
  
But still not Haymitch. At least not when he's awake.  
  
"It's causing quite a stir here. The other nurses and doctors don't understand why they would come," Dr. Aurelius says.

I’m glad. The people of Thirteen need to realize that Peeta is not an enemy. No matter what Coin or Gale or anyone else says.

They have to remember who the real enemy is.

I ask Dr. Aurelius when I can go in and see him again.

He grimaces. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea yet.”

Lucy Erryn gets to visit him again though. The visit goes much smoother. Peeta isn’t restrained to the bed. He crouches down to embrace her and then picks her up in his arms.

"Hey, this is mine. Where did you find my sweater?" he asks, touching the fabric and his eyes becoming distant, lost in memory.

I hold my breath, hoping that maybe this is what brings him back.

"Mommy found it. She said I could wear it...is that okay?"

Peeta nods and then he asks for me.

No, not really. He's asking for Lucy Erryn’s mommy.

“She’s okay. She misses you. I’m a big sister!”

He freezes and I see Dr. Aurelius tensing in the corner of the room where he’s watching.

“The baby…?” Peeta’s voice trails off.

Lucy Erryn shakes her head. “Not yet, but Mommy’s huge now and Aunt Prim says it’s going to happen any day.”

Peeta opens his mouth to say something, but then he shakes his head. He sets Lucy Erryn down and clenches his fists. “Not real, not real, not real,” he whispers.

Lucy Erryn doesn’t seem to register it. She goes to the desk. “You have colors?! Can I color?!”

They sit at the desk, Lucy Erryn settling into Peeta’s lap as if they’re back at the penthouse in the Capitol, drawing at the dining table while I work on getting dinner ready.

Dr. Aurelius sits back in his chair, writing down notes on his clipboard. She stays for over an hour and the only reason why she leaves is because her stomach growls.

Loudly.

“You hungry?” Peeta asks with a hint of a smile that makes my heart ache.

Lucy Erryn giggles as he wriggles his fingers lightly into her stomach. She nods and asks if she can eat with him.

Peeta looks behind him to Dr. Aurelius who gives a small shake of his head.

He sighs and stands up, pressing a quick kiss to the top of Lucy Erryn’s head. “Sorry, Lucy Erryn. You have to leave for lunch.”

She shakes her head. “Then I’m not hungry.”

Even though her stomach growls again.

Peeta crouches down in front of her. “I’ll see you again really soon, okay?”

Lucy Erryn whines a little, but asks, “Promise?”

Again, that hint of a smile. Never a full smile though. Not yet at least. “Promise. I love you.”

Lucy Erryn hugs him. “Love you too, Daddy.”

While he stills holds her, Peeta adds, “And tell your mommy that…I-I’m trying…” He takes a deep breath and squeezes his eyes shut. “I’m trying.”

Dr. Aurelius guides Lucy Erryn out of the room. Peeta watches and once they’re gone, his gaze turns to the window and by chance his eyes land on mine.

I place a hand on the glass and watch him as his breathing becomes short and his eyes become glassy and distant with his pupils beginning to grow.

Then he slides to the floor, grabbing his head and squeezing his eyes shut, curling into himself as he begins whispering, “Not real, not real, not real, not real.”

“He is making progress,” Dr. Aurelius says as he approaches me.

But I can’t imagine he’ll be well enough to see his child being born.

At night, while Lucy Erryn sleeps, I move close to her and press my nose against the sweater.

I can smell him. Faint, without any of the spices or seasonings. But it's him.

I need him back. I don't know how to do this without him. I can't give birth without him there.

Two days later, Delia comes to the compartment after picking up Lucy Erryn. She’s chattering away about her teacher and the other students. She says that she saw Lambrini today during gym. Lambrini told her that they put her with the wrong family and the person they said is her mommy really isn’t her mommy.

Delia asks Lucy Erryn what she means.

She shrugs. “She said that the lady said she isn’t her mommy and that they mixed things up.”

Delia tries pushing for more information, but I inhale sharply and it grabs their attention.

I’ve been feeling cramping for a few days already. But nothing consistent or even painful.

It's time. Whether or not Peeta is by my side, this baby is coming.

Delia grabs a communicuff and send Prim a ping. That it's time. Within minutes, the compartment door slides open with both my mother and Prim there, Prim unfolding a wheelchair.

My mother helps me sit down and Prim is asking me questions about the contractions. Have I been timing them, what’s the pain level, when did they start?

I don’t answer her. I turn to Lucy Erryn who is watching with wide eyes. I smile as best I can and give her hand a quick squeeze. “It’s going to be fine. Stay with Delia, okay?”

She nods and moves closer to her.

As soon as Prim starts pushing me towards the hospital wing, I let the tears begin falling.

Peeta should be here for this.

I have two more rounds of contractions before I’m finally settled in a hospital bed and a doctor has checked me over. I still have six more centimeters and it might take several hours. She gives me an epidural and tells me the only thing left to do now is wait.

And I see him here with me.

Peeta’s pacing the room, sitting next to me, telling me how excited he is.

“Do you have any names picked out?” Prim asks, sitting down in the chair where Peeta’s ghost was, causing him to disappear.

I shake my head, in response to her question and to try and keep myself grounded in reality.

_“I still think Barley’s a good name,”_ Peeta says as he appears, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“No food names, remember?” I murmur.

He smirks. _“Oh come on. It's a great name. We could even compromise. Barley Robin.”_

“No. No names after birds.” My voice is a bit louder this time, grabbing Prim’s attention.

She gives me a bemused smile and presses a cool rag to my forehead. “Okay. No names of birds. Got it.”

I force a smile. How do I explain I wasn’t talking to her. That I was talking to Peeta, but he’s not really here and even if he was, I don’t think he would sit on the bed with me and smile. He’s too far gone. I’m never going to lose hope that I’ll get him back, but it’s not going to happen in time for this. In time for him to see his child being born.

_“I’m here,”_ Peeta’s ghost says.

I squeeze my eyes shut. No. He’s not. He’s not here. This isn’t real.

Time moves slowly. My mother is with me for a while. She cries and tells me it hasn’t dawned on her until now just how much I’ve grown up. Prim stays with me almost the entire time. She only leaves when Effie comes in and she asks to speak with me in private.

Except Effie doesn’t talk to me at all. She just sits next to me and I break down into tears again.

“I can’t do this without him,” I sob.

Peeta’s sitting on the bed again. Watching me with a pained expression. _“I love you,”_ he whispers.

Effie holds my hand and it feels all wrong because she’s holding my right hand and my left hand feels so empty and I twist my wedding ring around and around.

“He’s going to come back. I know how hard you are fighting to get him back. And he might not realize it, but he’s fighting to get back to you too.”

“But I need him _now_.” And it feels so selfish of me, but I voice the thought that has been in my mind since we were first pulled out of the Capitol.

Effie just squeezes my hand in response and then presses a kiss to my forehead.

Then she gets up and leaves, saying there’s something that she has to take care of, but that she’ll be back as soon as she can.

I try to sleep, but I close my eyes and I see him. Eyes black with rage. Face thin and eyes hollow after his re-education. Blood covering his lower half after the attack from the mutts. Peacekeepers pushing him to the ground in front of a live audience.

So I keep my eyes open. I still see him, but at least the visions aren’t nightmares. I’ve stopped reminding myself it’s not real. That he’s locked away in a hospital room, stuck in the shattered remains of his mind.

It’s better to have one foot in this dream world than to be fully present in reality. I know I should care more, but something inside of me is broken. I feel as if I’m in a fog. Just waiting for light to break through.

But Peeta was my light. And a thought I have tried so hard to push down, finally breaks through and it screams through my mind.

I don’t know if he’ll ever be that light for me again.

_“I’m so proud of you.”_ The vision of him is standing in the corner. Then he moves and is right beside. Hand hovering over my stomach. _“I love you so much.”_

Prim asks if I want ice chips.

_“Katniss,”_ he whispers as he stares at me in wonder, standing at the foot of the bed. _“I love you.”_

A nurse comes in and checks on me. “You’re getting closer! I would give it maybe another hour.”

_“I love you.”_

“I can’t do this,” I whisper through my tears as I feel the contractions getting closer and closer.

_“Yes, you can,”_ he tells me. _“You’re the strongest person I know. I love you.”_

My body can feel the time to push getting closer. But I don’t want to. I don’t want to have this baby without Peeta. Without him holding my hand and reassuring me that everything is going to be okay and to see him being the first person, beside me, to hold it.

Prim tells me to relax, that when the time comes, I have to let go and push.

The door opens and for half a moment, I think it’s Peeta. Coming in with his eyes wide and hair sticking up everywhere, running to my side and apologizing for almost missing it, but that he’s here. He’s here with me and everything’s going to be okay

Instead, it’s Effie and Dr. Aurelius.

They pull my mother out of the room to speak with her.

Prim coaxes a few ice chips into me.

My mother comes back in the room again. Alone. And her face is pale and her hands are trembling slightly.

I think it’s strange, considering how calm she’s been throughout all of this, but then another contraction rips through me and I stifle a cry.

“I need Peeta,” I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut as if that would conjure him.

Then my mother asks, "Are you sure?"

I look at her, unable to hide my incredulity. "He is still my husband. And I love him. I love him."

She gives me a sad look and brushes some damp hair from my face. "I know."

A doctor comes in and checks how far dilated I am. I’m almost there.

Even though I know it’s pointless, I try and force my body to shrink. To stop. To wait until Peeta is here.

But then the doctor comes back and tells me it’s time to push.

Still, I close my legs slightly and shake my head. Protests start ringing out, but then I tell them my request.

I don't know this doctor. I don't trust her. But I trust my mother. I want her to deliver this baby.

They move places, Prim holding one leg and the doctor the other while my mother waits with gloved hands, coaxing me and telling me when to push.

I'm crying and screaming and I've forgotten how hard this is.

The baby can’t come yet.

Not without Peeta.

And in that first moment where I can catch my breath in between pushes, the door opens again.

I see Haymitch first. And I want to scream, yell at him to leave, that I never want to see him again. If he had told us from the beginning, if he had kept his promise and taken us _both_ out…

But then I see a cut on his eyebrow and the skin around it and his eye red and swelling. Rye's next to him, pale and uncomfortable and keeping his head down to avoid seeing anything.

Standing in between them is Peeta. Dressed in the white uniform of hospital patients. Eyes bloodshot. Hands loosely cuffed in front of him. His left cheek red and seeming to swell and his lip split.

I know he’s real because of the fear in his eyes. When he takes a step back, Haymitch places a hand on his shoulder. Not to hold him in place, but to whisper something.

Peeta squeezes his eyes shut, mumbles something and take three steps closer.

“Katniss, I need you to push again,” my mother says.

And even though I try and keep my eyes open and focused on Peeta, I end up squeezing them shut as I push with everything I can.

“K-Katniss?” Peeta takes two more steps forward. And Haymitch and Rye move with him.

Prim dabs away the sweat from my forehead. A choked sob falls from my lips. “Peeta.”

“Ready to push again?”

I can’t hold back a scream this time. And when I open my eyes, Peeta’s backed up into a corner and is shaking his head and I can see him struggling to hold on.

I hear my mother starting to yell. Rye is holding Peeta’s hand. Haymitch is trying to get him to look at him.

“The baby’s crowning! You’re almost done, Katniss.”

I push again and I feel someone grabbing my left hand. One that's warm and with such familiar callouses.

“Peeta?” I open my eyes to see him standing there, holding my left hand. In his eyes are a clarity I haven’t seen in so long.

“Katniss,” he says softly, his eyes so bright and blue. And there’s so many conflicting emotions I see in those eyes. Fear. Love. Despair. Joy.

“I love you,” I say.

“I…” He swallows hard, and squeezes his eyes shut.

For a moment, I’m terrified he’ll open them and his eyes will be black again. But then my mother tells me to push again and I can feel a pressure leaving my body.

A sharp cry fills the room.

Our baby.

“It’s a boy!” My mother places him on my chest after quickly cleaning out his nose.

I stare at him, wailing, squirming, red-faced, angry and my heart explodes.

“It’s a boy,” Peeta whispers.

He lets go of my hand and I cradle the newborn. He’s still screaming and moving his fists around. There’s tufts of blonde hair covering his head and I trail a finger down his cheek. He opens his eyes for just a second, but it’s long enough for me to see the gray.

He has my nose and Peeta’s chin and he is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.

I pull my eyes away from him to look at Peeta.

And he’s looking at our son with the same love in his eyes when Lucy Erryn was first born.

“It’s a boy,” he whispers again. And this time he looks at me.

A laugh bubbles from my lips and I can’t say anything else, but repeat what he just said. “It’s a boy.”

My mother takes him from my arms, but just to finish cleaning him off and weigh him and make sure everything is fine.

Peeta tenses and he clenches his fist and I can see the struggle in his eyes to stay grounded in this moment.

When she finishes, she turns and hands the baby to Peeta. And it's an awkward transfer as he can only move his hands so much because of the cuffs. He finally manages though and the baby is nestled in his arms.

Peeta slowly sinks into the chair, unable to take his eyes off of our son. And as he holds him, the baby calms, still giving soft sounds of protests, but his crying has stopped.

“So what’s his name?” Prim asks, still standing on the other side of me, leaning over to try and catch a glimpse of her newest nephew.

I can only think of one name. “Barley?”

This time it’s Peeta that laughs. A sound I never thought I would hear. And I register Rye in the back corner give a small groan. "Not every Mellark boy needs to have name based on bread," he grumbles.

“I thought you said no food names,” Peeta says, with the tiniest hint of a tease in his voice.

I shrug my shoulders. “He looks like a Barley.”

“Barley Mellark.” Peeta smiles, unable to take his eyes off of Barley. "Barley Robin?"

"No," I answer quickly.

My tone is harsher than I meant for it to come out and Peeta flinches, backing up in the chair away from me.

I take a deep breath. "No bird names."

Peeta squeezes his eyes shut, mumbling something, then he nods his head. "O-okay."

But he doesn't open his eyes and I notice his body has become stiff. And I hate it, but every instinct inside of me is telling me to get Barley away from him.

Before Peeta hurts him.

"Peeta, you good?" Haymitch moves to stand right next to Peeta, slowly placing his hand on his shoulder.

Peeta inhales sharply and gasps as if waking from a nightmare. His body relaxes though and he opens his eyes, focusing on Barley. "Yeah," he says quietly.

Haymitch keeps his hand on him and looks down at Barley. He smiles. "Gotta admit, you two make some pretty good-looking kids."

And Peeta looks up at me, his eyes shining and I can tell how hard he's fighting back these false memories that are haunting him.

Then he's inhaling sharply again and standing up. I automatically sit up in an attempt to grab Barley. But Haymitch takes Barley and Peeta steps all the way back to a corner, fisting his hands and even with his eyes closed, I know what color they are.

Haymitch hands Barley back to me. He hardly looked at him, his focus entirely on Peeta.

"I...I can't...no...not real...it's...it's not real..."

Haymitch calls Rye over and Peeta's brother slowly leads him out of the room, back to his hospital cell. Haymitch then goes to the doctor, the only person in the room that wasn't family. He says he wants to speak with her outside for a moment.

Is it to make sure she won't tell anyone that Peeta was in here?

I can't find it in myself to care. Because if I do, then I'll start thinking about everything else that is wrong. The struggle Peeta went through to be present for even just a moment. Not knowing if Coin expects me to give up Barley too. The Mockingjay duties that I now have to fulfill.

Instead, I focus on Barley, coaxing him to latch on for the first meal of life. And that Peeta was here. He was really here and he held our son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I did this big event justice! This was both so exciting and terrifying to write, because I just needed to make sure to get it completely right and I hope you lovelies like how it turned out!
> 
> Let me know what you think!!


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Incredibly random, but you have no idea how many times I've had to go back and retype Barley's name, because I keep on typing barely 🤦♀️ please let me know if catch that mix-up so I can fix it. I'm pretty sure I found all of them in this update, lol.
> 
> But in other news, I am just always so thankful for everyone's kind words! I love hearing your thoughts and how the chapters and this story make you feel and it's just such a joy writing this and posting it for you lovelies! I really hope you enjoy this next chapter!

I try and stay awake as long as I can. But I’m exhausted and Barley’s fallen asleep and Prim is still here. She reassures me that everything is okay. That I need to rest and someone else will always be in the room.

Except I’m afraid that when I open my eyes, he’ll be gone. They’ll tell me he died or that I’m an unfit mother so they placed him with a different family.

_“I won’t let anything happen to him. I promise.”_

I know it’s Peeta’s ghost speaking, even if I can’t see him this time, with my eyes half closed and the world slipping away.

I hate that I'm still seeing his ghost.

For the first time since I can remember, I don’t have any kind of dreams as I sleep. And I think I actually rest.

Hours pass before I hear Barley beginning to fuss. I’m trying to drag myself from this deep sleep and as I’m about to open my eyes, I hear a soft shushing.

“Don’t want to wake your mother up yet. This might be the longest she's slept lately and she needs all the sleep she can get.”

It’s Effie. I relax some and allow myself to keep my eyes closed. She’ll watch Barley. She’ll make sure no one takes him away.

I don’t fall back asleep, but I still doze. Listening to Effie quietly humming. Barley’s cooing that turns into whimpering and the door opening. A nurse giving Effie a bottle of formula. Her encouragements for Barley to drink from it and his soft suckling.

He’s here with me and he’s going to be okay. I won’t let anyone hurt him or take him away. And I know there are other people here that will make sure of that too.

The door opens again.

“Oh. Sorry, I, uh…I’ll come back later.”

It’s Haymitch. I can already picture him, rubbing the back of his neck.

Effie clicks her tongue. “It’s fine. You’re allowed to sit.”

There’s a beat of silence before I hear him shuffling in. Then it’s quiet again, until-

“Well, don’t just lurk in the back corner. You’re allowed to sit down.”

Again, more quiet footsteps followed by a heavy sigh.

“Do you want to hold him?” Effie asks.

“No. I’m not…haven’t held one since-“

He interrupts himself with a choking sound of protest.

“Watch his head. And hold the bottle like this…”

The room falls quiet again and I’m sinking back into a dreamless sleep. Before I actually do fall asleep though, I hear Effie again.

“Thank you,” she says. “I can’t imagine what kind of state she would be in if he wasn’t there.”

Haymitch gives a small grunt. “They can’t stay here,” he says. “Didn’t realize it until it was too late, but this place is just as dangerous as the Capitol.”

“They survived the Capitol. They can survive this place a little longer until they can leave.”

“It’s not fair to them though. It’s all been about survival since the Games for them. They deserve a chance to _live_.”

“I know.”

I’m too exhausted to try and listen anymore to their conversation. This time, I do dream. Of bombs and crying children and Peeta’s eyes going from black to blue to black and Lucy Erryn singing _Gem of Panem_.

And then there’s a crying in my dream that won’t stop and even when I open my eyes, the crying hasn’t stopped.

I turn my head and see that it’s Barley. Rory’s holding him and Prim’s trying to instruct him on how to give him a bottle.

I shift a little in bed, enough to grab their attention.

“I think he’s hungry,” Rory says as he discards the bottle and hands Barley off to me.

Barley slips easily in to my arms and he’s still screaming and I shush him gently as Prim helps me sit up to feed him.

Rory immediately turns red, mumbles some kind of excuse and leaves the room.

Prim starts laughing and I smile too.

“How are you feeling?” she asks.

“Who’s asking? Nurse Prim or Little Sister Prim?”

She gives a wry smile. “Little Sister Prim.”

I let out a heavy sigh as I look up. Peeta’s in the corner. Eyes bright and alive and joyful.

“I’m tired,” I say, not looking away from Peeta’s ghost.

He gives me a sad smile. _“So am I.”_

I swallow hard and force myself to look away from him and back to Prim.

But she’s looking at the same place where Peeta’s ghost is.

Or isn’t.

There’s a slight furrow to her brow and her lips are pursed. She looks exactly like our mother.

She turns to look back at me and puts on a smile that’s a little too bright. She squeezes my hand. “I love you, Katniss.”

_“I love you, Katniss,”_ Peeta’s ghost says at the same time, their voices overlapping.

I keep my eyes trained on her. I can’t look at him. I _can’t_.

Delia finally comes by with Lucy Erryn. And she’s bouncing in the doorway and skips over to the bed. But just as I think she’s going to jump on me and I’m already about to lift Barley in the air so she doesn’t accidentally land on him, she stops. With the most serious look on her face, she studies Barley.

I’ve just managed to get him to sleep again after feeding and burping him. His nose scrunches up a little in his sleep and I smile.

Peeta does that sometimes. When he’s already asleep but still trying to find a comfortable position.

“Is that him?” Lucy Erryn whispers.

I nod. “This is Barley. Your baby brother.”

Delia comes over and sits on the edge of the bed. She pulls Lucy Erryn into her lap so she can get a better view of Barley.

She stares at him. Then frowns. “Why’s he so small?”

I laugh softly. “Because he’s a baby. You were that small too once.”

She looks at me as if she doesn’t believe me. I nod at her disbelief.

“Do you want to hold him?”

Her eyes grow wide with surprise. “Really?”

“Delia will help you, but yeah. You can hold him.”

Delia smiles as she takes Barley. And I realize I’ve seen that smile on my mother’s face too as she hold Barley.

As if recalling a time when she held her own baby in her arms.

And I remember that note I found so long. That Delia did have a child. But she’s never told me anything about it, so I never pried.

She helps Lucy Erryn hold Barley, making sure she’s supporting his head.

I wish Peeta was here to see this.

_“I am here though. I’m right here.”_

He’s sitting right next to them, hand reaching out to stroke Barley’s face, but not touching him.

I inhale sharply and blink. He’s gone.

But I’ve grabbed Delia’s attention. She tilts her head and raises an eyebrow.

I shake my head. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

She isn’t convinced, but doesn’t press me.

It’s while they’re visiting with me that my mother comes in. She says I’m discharged from the hospital and can go back to the compartment.

Once again, I’m placed in a wheelchair. My mother pushes me down the halls as I hold Barley. Delia and Lucy Erryn walk next to us. We pass a few people and they all turn and watch me, faces lighting up and whispering excitedly as soon as I’ve passed.

Their Mockingjay has given birth to a son.

Will word get back to Coin now? That I’m holding Barley in my arms. That he’s not with a different family.

I can’t think about any of that right now.

My mother takes us down different hallways. “You’re moving to a different compartment. One that’s a little bit bigger and actually has a separate room for you.” She leans in a little. “It’s soundproof too. No one will here Barley crying in the middle of the night.”

Which is perfect because the first night out of the hospital wing, he cries as much as Lucy Erryn did.

And I cry along with him. Because I’m so tired and I need Peeta next to me and I don’t know how much longer we can survive in this place.

Lucy Erryn sleeps with Prim, despite her protests. She says she wants to help me and make sure Barley knows he needs to sleep and not cry. I smile and kiss the top of her head. "You don't need to worry about it. You just focus on getting your own sleep so you can wake up for school tomorrow."  
  
Delia stays with me though. I don’t know how I would’ve made it through that first night without her.

At least when morning finally comes, Barley is asleep.

Delia tells me to go see him. She’ll stay with Barley.

I only hesitate for a moment before I’m getting up. Prim and Rory are already up, but Lucy Erryn is still asleep. There’s still another hour before she has to get up for school.

“Are you okay?” Prim asks.

For a moment, I want to tell her to stop asking me that. We both know the answer to the question, so why is she bothering with it. But I still give a small shrug in response and tell her I’ll be back.

I press a light kiss to Lucy Erryn’s forehead, trying not to wake her, and I leave the compartment.

With the new location, it takes longer than I would like for me to figure out which way to go. When I finally find the room, it’s still early enough that it’s only Dr. Aurelius in the room.

He raises his eyebrows a little when he sees me come in. “I wasn’t expecting you so soon.”

I hardly glance at him as I move towards the window. And what I see makes my heart sink.

Peeta’s awake. But he’s huddled in the back corner, his eyes glazed over.

This is the worst he’s looked since they first brought him in, while there was still tracker jacker venom in his system.

“What happened?” I ask, standing close enough that I can touch the window. As if that might help, even though I know it’s useless.

Dr. Aurelius sighs. “I know it looks bad, but…he hasn’t taken any steps back. Look at it more as he took a step sideways.”

I bite back a scoff. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He’s basically been catatonic since Byran brought him back after your delivery.”

A small gasp leaves my mouth. I sink into the chair that’s by the window. The chair I always sit in. And I press my hand to my stomach, half expecting to feel Barley tumbling inside of me.

But he’s not there anymore. I gave birth to him. I’m no longer carrying a piece of Peeta inside of me.

And I feel as if I’ve lost something.

“This might be a good thing. Maybe he’ll finally sort through his memories, figure out once and for all what’s been tampered with and what hasn’t.”

Only two words stick. _Might. Maybe._

There’s a chance this could go wrong. That I'll never get Peeta back.

It’s my fault. I couldn’t do it without him. I can’t do any of this without him. I can’t be the mother that our children deserve without him. I never could. And I’ve pushed him too far.

The blooming hope that I felt at getting him back withers the longer I watch him.

“I think now would be a good time for you to visit him actually.”

My gaze snaps to him. “Are you serious?”

Dr. Aurelius nods. “He’s not a danger to you and we actually have him on some sedatives right now because his heart rate spiked again and wouldn't go down. He has a few hours before he’s due for his next dose.”

I blink. “Wait, you mean _right now?_ ”

Again, he nods. “Do you have a moment?”

It hasn’t even been ten minutes since I’ve left Barley with Delia. I don’t think he’ll wake up for another few hours and even if he does, Delia can handle him. “Okay.”

Dr. Aurelius smiles as he leads me into the room.

“Peeta?” Dr. Aurelius calls out. “There’s another visitor here for you.”

Peeta doesn’t give any indication he’s heard Dr. Aurelius.

“It’s your wife,” Dr. Aurelius continues. “Mrs. Mellark.”

I notice how he doesn’t say my first name.

But still, Peeta doesn’t react.

Dr. Auerlius purses his lips as he looks to me. “I’ll give you some time.” He leaves the room.

It takes a few moments for me to step further into the room. “Peeta?”

I hear take in a quick breath. But he still doesn’t move or look towards me.

I want to sit on the floor with him. Grab his hands in mine and hold him and find that piece of him that’s lost.

But my body is still too sore to even consider that, so I sit in the chair by his desk.

“Peeta, it’s me. I’m right here. I’m waiting for you."

Nothing.

I softly start humming.

That’s when he finally reacts. His eyes closing and his body relaxing.

If I pretend, it’s as if he’s asleep in bed with me and I’ve woken up before him. No hijacking. No nightmares. Just a peaceful sleep before our day gets started.

Then he’s moving. Faster than I can process. And somehow, his hand is gripping my arm, burning my skin. He’s pulling me up and pins me against the wall, both hands on the wall on either side of me.

I hear the door open and rushing footsteps come in. “Wait,” I say, not looking away from Peeta.

His eyes are boring into mine. And they’re _blue_.

For the first time, I see an opening to the real Peeta. If Dr. Aurelius intervenes, I don't know when I'll get another chance like this.

“I just want to know what’s real,” he whispers, staring at me, trying to find the answers.

“Then ask.”

He swallows hard. “You’re her. Real or not real?”

I’m not sure who he’s thinking of. The Katniss that he loves and loves him back, that’s his wife and mother to his children? Or the Katniss that the Capitol made him think was real, the one that wanted to destroy him?

“Are you her?” he asks again, desperation in his voice and his eyes that are still miraculously blue. “Are you the one that can’t stand the smell of cinnamon and loves cheesebuns and garlic bread and always looks so offended when a piece of fabric won’t do what you want it to do and always takes forever to get out of bed and will write down all the details of the Tributes every year and smells like baby powder and blueberries and just…you?”

I take a chance and slowly lift my hand to cup his face. He flinches, but doesn’t move from my touch. “Yes,” I whisper. “That’s me. That’s _real_.”

For a moment, his pupils start growing. But then he shuts his eyes and breathes hard. He lowers his head and buries his face in my shoulder. I hold my breath at the contact, remembering countless times when he’s done this same exact thing, but because he’s kissing me and holding me and telling me how much he loves me.

He inhales deeply. “Baby powder and…” He lets out a shuddering breath.

Again, I lift my hand to touch him, this time, threading my fingers through his hair. It’s the longest he's had it in a few years. I rest my hand at the base of his neck, lightly twisting some of his hair in my fingers.

“You’re Peeta Mellark,” I say.

He lifts his head to look at me again. Exhaustion is mirrored back in his eyes.

“You double knot your laces. Your favorite color is orange. A soft orange, like the sunset. You’ve saved me countless times, starting when we were younger, after my father died. You never sleep late and you try so hard to get the tributes to smile and draw them like that and you always hold my hand and rub your thumb over my wedding ring.”

He lowers one of his hands and grabs my left hand. His thumb traces over the pearl and he stares at it. “Because if you put enough pressure on coal, it turns into a pearl.”

I nod, even though he’s not looking at me. “I love you, Peeta.”

He drops my hand and clenches his fist.

With both my hands, I cup his face and gently lift it so I can look at his eyes. His eyes that are still so blue. “I love you,” I repeat.

A single tear falls from his eye. I don’t know if he realizes it or not. “I…I want to, but I…I don’t know how anymore.”

I know it’s a risk, but I pull his face closer to mine, until our lips our finally touching.

And I want to weep because of how much it reminds me of a time when he would say I love you and I would always respond back with those same words and even though our lives were hard in the Capitol, we did have a small time of peace, filled with love and joy and hope. The kiss is a reminder of what I’ve lost.

But it’s reminder of the small spark of hope. Because Peeta hasn’t pulled away. And I feel him relaxing into me.

He’s still in there. And he’s still fighting.

I pull back and press my forehead against his. “I could teach you,” I say. “Just stay with me.”

“Always,” he breathes.

The moment is so close to being perfect.

But then I see Peeta struggling to keep his eyes open and I’m feeling drained and my breasts are beginning to hurt meaning I have to either feed Barley or pump.

I kiss him again. A chaste peck on the lips. But it’s so much more than what I’ve been able to do since we’ve come to Thirteen. “I’ll bring Barley next time.”

His eyes dart to mine. “Promise?”

I nod and make myself smile. Even if I see distrust in his eyes.

“I love you,” I tell him again.

He doesn’t say it back.

I leave the room and see Dr. Aurelius sitting at the chair, writing away on his clipboard. He looks up at me with a smile. “Katniss, this is amazing progress. I know it’s hard, but…I wasn’t expecting any of that to actually happen. This is great. It really is.”

Again, I make myself smile. I know he’s right. Considering how Peeta was when we first came, he has made progress.

But I’m impatient and I want Peeta back completely.

I want to hear him say _I love you_ to me.

I make my way back to the compartment, just as Prim is walking out with Lucy Erryn to school. I give her a hug, telling her to be good and to have fun today. She kisses my cheek and says she’s going to tell everyone about her new baby brother.

“Why don’t we play a game with them? Let’s see how long it takes for them to find out all on their own that you have a baby brother.” I don’t know who’s at this school. I don’t want word to get back to Coin. I can’t have either of them taken away like Branton was.

Lucy Erryn agrees to go along with the game. Prim shoots my a sympathetic look before finally walking down the hallway, hand in hand with Lucy Erryn.

I feel a small burst of jealousy. That should be me. I’m her mother. I’m the one that should be walking her to school.

But I remind myself that there’s nothing I can do about it right now. I still have to wait, finish my Mockingjay duties, help Peeta get better, and then we’ll leave Thirteen. Make a home for ourselves, away from the rebels and the Capitol.

In the room, Barley’s awake and has started fussing. Delia’s already preparing a bottle of formula, but I tell her it’s fine and begin feeding him myself.

And as I do, I tell her what happened during my visit. And this new hope that I feel and how I’m so terrified of it as well.

She doesn’t tell me it’s going to be okay. Instead, she tells me it’s normal, to be so afraid of this hope.

It actually makes me feel a little better.

Delia stays with me all day. Either she’s ignoring her daily schedule or Haymitch worked it out that she had this time to stay with me. Whichever reason, I’m glad for it.

Watching her with Barley reminds me of how she was with Lucy Erryn. So calm and patient and looking at him with so much love.

With the love of someone’s who’s a mother too.

It’s on the tip of my tongue the entire day. But I have to remind myself not to pry. If she wanted to tell me, she would have already.

The next day, I still don’t feel as if I’ve rested any, but I feel different. I feel charged, energized. Today, I’m going to see Peeta again and I’m bringing Barley and I just know there’s going to be more progress with him during our visit.

Prim's taken Lucy Erryn to school already and I've just fed Barley. He's asleep and I start swaddling him to take him to see his father.

But then there's a knock on the compartment door.

I’ve grown to hate any knocks on the door.

Delia opens it after I roll my eyes and begrudgingly nod.

It’s Finnick.

And my heart drops.

“Planning on going somewhere?” he asks as he watches me grab a blanket to wrap Barley against my chest.

“Yes, actually,” I say without telling him where. He already knows where. It's the only place I go here.

He grimaces a little. “I hate to derail your plans, but you’re wanted in Command. Coin wants to talk about the next steps with you as the Mockingjay.”

“So soon?”

Finnick gives a small shrug. “She says she doesn’t want any more time wasted.”

I give a small huff of frustration, but then look to Delia. She’s already nodding and picking up Barley before I even have to ask.

Finnick and I walk in silence for the most part. It isn’t until we’re halfway there, that Finnick does finally say something.

“You forget how small they are when they’re first born,” he says.

I smile a little. Thinking of Lucy Erryn and now Barley and…I imagine Branton was the same.

“Annie wants to come visit, but…I don’t know. I don’t think it would be good for her.”

Because their own son was completely taken away when they came to Thirteen. I don’t know how long it’s been since they’ve seen him.

"It might be good for her," I say.

Finnick gives a small sigh and shakes his head. "I don't know."

Right before we walk through the doors to Command, Finnick stops and says, “Just do what they ask, Katniss, and it’ll be over faster. We can be back with our families.”

In Command, Coin, Plutarch and Haymitch are sitting at the table. I notice that Gale’s not here, but I’m not curious enough to actually ask where he is.

I look at Haymitch briefly. His eye that was swelling when he came into the delivery room is officially a black eye. I’m almost positive that Peeta was the one that gave it to him. Good.

Coin smiles at me as I sit across from her. “Congratulations on the delivery. It’s good to see our numbers increasing from births instead of refugees. It gives hope for the future generation.”

I just nod, even though I’m hoping to take our children out of this place soon.

They go straight into discussing plans for the Mockingjay. Finnick is silent, his thoughts elsewhere. I don’t say anything either. Letting other people decide my future again.

And every time I feel a surge of anger at that thought, I think of my family. Peeta, our children. I still have to play along for a little while longer.

Coin wants to send me to District Two. With General Hawthorne. She thinks it would be a good idea to get footage of us both, fighting for the rebel cause.

Haymitch says it’s a terrible idea to send a woman who’s just given birth into a war zone. He insists that I still need more time to rest and for my body to get back to normal.

I hate Plutarch’s idea the most.

“We take her aboveground here. And have all the kids from the school with her. Have her teaching them about the outdoors and the entire time have her new baby wrapped on her back. The Mockingjay as a mother, leading a new generation into a free Panem.”

Coin and I say no at the same time.

It might the first and only time we’ll ever agree on something.

“The propo Cressida filmed did _amazing_ in the Capitol,” Plutarch argues. “People seem to believe in our cause more when they see the Mockingjay as a mother. Hell, it might even mean less fighting!”

“I don’t want my children to be used in any of the propos,” I say. They are not more game pieces for Snow and Coin to play with.

“We want to show our strength. I don’t think your idea is an accurate representation of that,” Coin says.

Plutarch tilts his head. “I would say motherhood is one of the best representation of strength actually. Wouldn’t you agree, Madam Coin?”

Her jaw locks tightly and her face that never shows any emotion, finally shows a tick of anger. “Fine,” she finally says. “Let’s get this propo filmed by tomorrow.”

And that’s it. Decision made. I can’t argue or say I won’t do it. I don’t have a say over anything in my life.

I get up to leave, needing to see Peeta, when Coin stops me.

“Before you go, you need to know that your visits with Peeta Mellark are over.”

I spin around to face her. “What?”

“Peeta Mellark is still a prisoner of war and too many people have forgotten this. Unless the person is part of the medical team working on his case, all visits are banned.”

Even Haymitch looks caught off guard by this. “Peeta needs these visits to help him recover. Dr. Aurelius says-“

“Dr. Aurelius says that he’s made incredible progress over the last few days. The visits are no longer necessary.”

“Says who? You or Dr. Aurelius?” Finnick speaks up.

Coin shoots Finnick a dark look. And in that moment, I know Finnick is going to pay for what his words imply. “Every decision I make is for the good of Panem, Mr. Odair. You and everyone in this room would do well to remember that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr: nachocheese-itsmycheese.tumblr.com


End file.
